Fictionista Wrkshp Summer 2011 Sultry, Malicious
by Rochelle Allison
Summary: New Witfit Stories, this time told one by one. "Sultry", "Malicious".
1. Sultry

All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

**Sultry**

* * *

Funerals are always rainy, gray affairs in the movies. It's appropriate, you know? The last thing you want is sunshine when you're grieving.

But it's hot today, almost sweltering. It's the kind of sultry heat best enjoyed at the beach, with a drink in one hand and a good book in the other. The lady next to me lazily swishes her program back and forth, fanning herself. She's been doing it for so long I doubt she realizes she's still doing it.

The preacher drones on and on, and I wonder if everyone but me has been lulled in to a stupor. Like a dying heart, time slows until it is standing still, and if it wasn't for the sweat running down my back or the play of light through the trees I'd think maybe we were stuck here, in this awful sadness.

A sharp sob breaks the monotony, the kind of cry you just know has been suppressed for so long it had to come out. I know without looking it's his mother, and when I do look I see her in the front row, shuddering in to the arms of her other son. His twin, the one I've never met.

I don't want to meet him.

It's bad enough that we never met, even though I was with Masen for nearly a year. Looking at him will be like looking at Masen's ghost, and I'm not sure I can handle that right now.

It's bad enough that I, apparently, don't belong here. Masen's _other_ girl, the wispy strawberry blonde up front, sniffling in to a tissue... she belongs here.

It's bad enough I went from love to grief so quickly I hardly got the chance to process the betrayal in between, leaving me blindsided and wrung out.

I really don't even want to be here, but I had to come. For closure, I guess, and because regardless of how things ended I loved him. And he didn't deserve to die.

Not this young, anyway.

People shuffle to their feet and I follow, blinking back in to the here and now. The lady next to me smiles as she eases by, patting my arm as she does.

I want to offer my condolences, but in the end my own selfish fear of having to explain who I am gets in the way and I wander back toward the parking lot. I won't be attending the gathering that's sure to follow at the family home; I wasn't invited and even if I had been, I need to be alone.

"Bella?"

My heart startles and I spin around, clutching my purse to my chest.

He looks so much like him that it hurts. My stomach coils and I sort of fall back against my car, trying not to double over.

"Bella?" he says again, whispering this time. "I'm Edward. I know we've never met…"

I look up at him again and it's obvious he knows that his looks are a problem right now, that everyone who looks at him sees his brother. The fresh pain in his eyes makes me feel even worse, because I can't imagine having to deal with the loss of someone so close and then contend with everyone else's grief on top of it.

"I'm so sorry," I say.

He shakes his head slowly, looking down. "Thank you."

We stand there for a moment, and I hate myself for noticing how beautiful he is, even with wet eyelashes and circles under his eyes.

It's confusing, feeling this way.

I'm wondering how he even knows who I am, when he reaches over and presses a square of folded paper in to my hand. I know without looking it's probably one of many notes written by me to Masen or written by Masen to me. What started out as a coy joke in class led to casual flirtation and finally, dating. Even when we'd moved on to separate universities in different cities, we'd continued writing little notes like this – even with phone calls and emails. I'd saved all of mine, but I was surprised he's saved any of mine.

Especially knowing he'd been seeing someone else for the past seven months. And not just seeing her, judging by the ring on her finger.

"It was with his stuff…" Edward says.

I tuck the note in to my purse. "How'd you know who I was?"

"Pictures."

I nod, not sure if that makes me feel better or infinitely worse.

"I'm sorry he was…" he trails off, frowning. "Doing whatever he was doing."

"Doesn't matter," I lie, shaking my head. "It's… too late for that, you know?" _Too late in every sense._

A breeze blows through the trees overhead, ruffling the leaves. It's a soothing sound, a summertime sound, and for a second I want to pretend myself away.

Someone calls his name across the lot, and he turns briefly, waving at them.

"Will you be coming by?" he asks, hands in his pockets now.

"No."

He nods like he understands.

"Thank you for giving this to me," I say, nodding toward the note in my purse. "You didn't have to."

He smiles, shrugging. "No one really has to do anything."

I don't know how to respond to that. Nodding, I turn to unlock my car door, more than ever ready to leave.

"I wish I'd met you under better circumstances," I say, sliding in to the driver's seat.

"I feel the same way, Bella."

There is something in his voice that pulls at me. I glance sharply up at him, but he's already walking away, looking more like he's on a stroll through a park than on his way out of a cemetery.


	2. Dispose

All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

**storyline: Sultry**

**prompt - dispose**

* * *

I love airports; the sense of transience, possibility.

The in between is comfortable, like I'm buffered from both the past and the future. I recall that movie with Tom Hanks, when he lived in an airport. He seemed pretty content.

The garbled flight announcement overhead reminds me that I, however, cannot live here.

A quick glance at my phone: my flight begins boarding in approximately twenty five minutes. Just enough time to finish my coffee and read a bit. I grab my Kindle and reabsorb myself in to the book I started on the flight down.

"I prfer the iPad, personally."

I look up at Edward Cullen. The similarity between his face and my dead boyfriend's pierces me again. I wonder how long it will take for this to fade.

It's a moot point, though. After today, I'll probably never see him again.

His smile wilts, and I realize that my wordless stare is rude and kind of weird. I manage a smile. "Yeah, well… e-readers are supposedly easier on your eyes."

He shrugs. "So I've heard."

"I'd love an iPad, though."

"They're pretty great. I use mine for everything."

An awkward moment passes before he clears his throat. Seems he's always the one to initiate; I never know what to say around him.

His eyes, they slay me with sadness. I wonder if he sleeps.

"So you're headed home?" he asks.

I nod, finishing the last of my coffee. "You?"

"Yeah. My gate's right there." He points. "San Francisco."

This surprises me. I'd assumed he lived in Seattle, like Masen. "Huh. I'm in Oakland."

"No kidding." He smiles again, nodding.

There are differences, I see now. He walks different. His eyes crinkle more when he smiles, and they're vividly green whereas Masen's were bluer. His hair is longer, messier, but he dresses nicer. A little preppy, but in a good way.

A thought occurs to me. "Have you lived in San Francisco long?"

"All through college," he affirms.

"Did he ever visit you there?"

"All the time." Besides sadness, now I see pity in his eyes as well. Masen never did manage to cross the bridge to see me when he went to visit his brother. I realize more and more how little I must have meant to him.

Sighing, I stand up. People are beginning to queue at my gate.

"Well, this is it I guess…" I sling my bag over my shoulder.

He nods. "Have a good flight."

"You too."

_Have a good life._

* * *

We've been in the air for a while when I retrieve the note from my bag.

It's been burning a hole in my purse since the funeral yesterday, but I haven't been able to bring myself to read it till now.

I suspect that this might be what I've been waiting for: the letter coming clean about the other girl. Or some sort of explanation, anything that makes what happened, seem not so bad.

Smoothing the paper down on to the little pull-down tray in front of me, I let my eyes wander over the familiar slants and curves of Masen's handwriting. I remember the first note ever, mid way through our senior year of college. He'd slid into the seat beside me, late to class. I'd taken one look at him and deemed him the hottest guy on campus, maybe even town.

He caught me staring and wrote me a note.

_Hi_

Nothing epic, but enough to make me blush and smile.

By the time we separated, him for grad school and me to return home so I could catch up on missed credits at a local college, we were inseparable. Best friends that were lovers.

That's what makes it hurt so much now. He was never just my boyfriend; he was so much more. Maybe part of me hoped he was the One. I don't know. We hadn't gotten to that point quite yet. But I loved him, and he said he loved me. The first time he told me was in a note.

I open the one in front of me, prepared to receive the last bit of closure I need.

Except, there isn't any.

It's just like all the rest, talking about classes and his parents and visiting home for summer.

Well, he visited home all right…just not the way he'd expected.

I reread the note a hundred times, as if repetition will change the words.

There's no guilty admission, apology, or even a sign that anything was ever amiss. It's all business as usual.

And it pisses me off.

The first thing I do when I get back to my apartment is lock the door.

The second thing is get the box where I've kept all of his letters and notes. I add the most recent to the pile and then dump the whole thing in the trash. I kind of want to be dramatic and burn it, but I don't have matches or a lighter and anyway it would be a nuisance for the smoke alarm to go off at eleven p.m.

A photo of the two of us catches my eye; I yank it from the fridge and dispose of it.

It's ridiculous to be this pissed off and hurt by someone who is dead, but I really don't give a damn.

Later in bed, the anger dissolves back in to grief, and I let myself cry for him again.

It's the last time.

* * *

i am so touched by the reviews for chapter one. please know i read and smiled (rather sappily and even moronically) at each and every one. responding to reviews will be a challenge this time around but i will when i can - i love you guys. it feels really good to be back; i'd missed writing and posting, even though the break was very necessary.

so. i should be able to post daily but if i can't... remember there's a feisty baby (Tiny Tyrant) running the show around here.


	3. Escape

_ All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**Sultry**

**prompt - escape**

* * *

"You said you were quitting." Rose waves her arm through the air, making a face at the smoke.

I dash the cigarette beneath my boot, nodding. "I am."

"For New Years?" she says, mocking.

I shrug. "Sure, why not?"

To my credit, I never smoked a lot and I smoke even less now. But Rose is right; it's a gross habit, one I picked up from Masen. It's probably the last physical vestige of our relationship.

"That gives you two weeks, then."

"Maybe I'll quite right now."

Rose ignores that and stands, her hand hovering over my coffee cup. "Want more? I'm in the mood for another cup."

I nod and recline back, closing my eyes against the brightness. It's brisk and chilly but very sunny, probably my favorite kind of weather. I love how the air smells, and how the sky takes on this special clear blue that only colder air permits.

Moments later Rose joins me on the deck, and we sip in silence. We've been friends a long time.

"I'm meeting Emmett and a couple of friends in the city tonight," she says after a while.

"Nice."

"Want to come?"

The way she asks, it's like she doesn't care either way but I know better. She's still waiting for me to thaw from my self-imposed post-Masen freeze. She was never too crazy about him, but she didn't hate him.

Well, not until we found out he'd been two timing me. Still, she's maintained a respectful distance when it comes to that topic.

So have I, actually. Distance and busyness are my favorite forms of escape. I focus on the classes I take at Laney, and have dinner at my dad's at least twice a week. I work and have girl's nights with Rose, Angela and Alice. I just don't date; I haven't really wanted to.

This isn't because I don't trust men. I trust myself, and that's what matters.

I don't date because I'm still not over Masen's death, and thinking about spending time romantically with other guys hurts a little. I figure I'll know when it's time to move on.

Rose's long, exaggerated sigh coaxes me from my thoughts. Smiling, I peer over at her. "Sure, I'll come."

She smiles too. "We'll take BART; Emmett can drive us back later."

* * *

Tyler and I have been chatting for nearly an hour. Any surprise I felt initially at how easy this is has long since been swept away by good conversation. He's smart, but not condescending, and then ridiculously silly, but not low brow. I'm on my second martini when he stands.

"I'll be right back. You good?"

"Great, thanks."

He nods and strides away, leaving me with Rose, Emmett and several of their pseudo-yuppie friends from the city. Most of them are nice, but we don't click as well as Tyler and I have.

Rose leans forward, resting her hand on my knee. "Having fun?"

I nod, smiling at her. "I am, actually. It's gorgeous up here."

We're at the Sky Terrace above Medjool, cozy with heat lamps and good liquor. It's my first time here, and I love it. Rose tells me it isn't always this mellow, but for now it's just what I need.

I'm considering another martini – chocolate – when a familiar head of hair catches my eye from across the lounge. My heart skips a beat; not because he reminds me of lost love, but because he is so very handsome and somehow we are connected whether we want to be or not.

He's chatting up a curvy blonde…well, maybe she's chatting him up. He's smiling, and very attentive, but the more I observe the more I imagine he's indulging her.

I want to say hello; I feel like I should. Would he want to see me? Was he polite and friendly before because the situation called for it? The one thing we have in common connects us, yes, but it could also possibly estrange us – and rightfully.

Besides a couple of interactions with Edward, I have no idea who he is or what he's like. He doesn't seem like Masen, though. And that's good. Masen was amazing, but I no longer know how much of him was real.

Edward walks over to the bar and I get up to follow him.

"Hi."

He turns slowly, surprise evident on his face. "Hey! Bella. Wow…it's been awhile. How are you?"

"I'm good," I say, subtly calming my clenched fists. I'm still healing, even though I know, deep down, I will be okay. I'm okay most of the time, really. "How've you been?"

"Good. Busy, you know. Life is nonstop…" He accepts his drink and pays. "Are you drinking? Can I get you anything?"

"Oh, no. I'm set." I motion back to the table where my group is sitting. Tyler has since returned. "Thanks, though."

He sips his drink and watches me, his eyes less pained but more guarded since the last time we spoke.

I hope he doesn't think my motivations are shady. "I just…I saw you here and I wanted to come and say hi."

"I'm glad you did."

He's so to the point. Not a charmer, which is good.

And now I wonder when I began seeing him this way. It's inappropriate, in every sense, and too close. There are a million guys in this city, let alone Oakland - why would I consider the one person I shouldn't?

There's having a type, and then there's _having a type. _This would just be…

"Do you want to talk about this?" he asks, setting his half finished drink aside abruptly.

His "this" could be different than my "this" but I doubt it.

"Yes."

* * *

_thanks for the reviews, lovelies. Today's chapter is brought to by Tiny Tyrant's Nap and Playmat._

_so, to clear something up: masen and bella were not together for years. i saw a couple of reviews mentioning this. they met their senior year of college, and then separated - he to attend grad school and she to catch up on credits in her hometown. also, in ch 1, bella says they'd been together for almost a year. _

_doesn't change the fact he was a grade a jerk, though._


	4. Relief

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - relief**

* * *

I've noticed that Edward keeps his eyes on my face, always.

Part of me wishes he wasn't such a gentleman. There's this insecurity inside of me that I didn't realize existed until Masen did what he did. I guess all it took was a cheater to make me question myself worth…which is stupid, I know. My friends are adamant that the problem was his, not mine, and I believe them.

But still.

The rest of me finds a deep sense of relief that he isn't flirting with me. I feel like I can trust him, like the words that come out of his mouth are true and unhindered by lust. People will do and say anything when they're horny or "looking for love". I would know.

"Do you… want to stay here or go someplace quiet?" he asks.

"Either way," I say, trying desperately to figure out which would be better. I would prefer someplace quiet, for sure, but I don't know that leaving sends the right signal to him, or to my friends. Or to myself, really.

"There's a diner a couple of blocks away… they've got great pie."

Ouch. Masen loved pie, too. Maybe their mother baked it a lot while they were growing up.

But I nod. "That sounds good. Let me get my purse and tell my friend I'm leaving."

Rose is less surprised than disturbed when I tell her I'm going to hang out with Edward at a diner.

"I know you said they were identical, but…this is just too much, Bella. Are you sure?"

"They're not the same person. And I have a couple of questions. I need this."

She hands me my bag, which was sitting beside hers. "How're you getting back to the Bay?"

"I'll call a cab."

Rose doesn't look too thrilled, but we're adults and she knows I'm not the foolish type. "Promise me you'll call if…" she trails off, shrugging.

"I will."

I say good night to the rest of the group, bending to give Tyler a quick hug. "I'm so glad I met you."

He smiles softly. "Me too. Maybe we can grab lunch or coffee or something one of these days."

I'm not quite attracted to him, but I really like him and I think he feels the same. "That would be great."

We exchange numbers on our phones and then I straighten up, scanning the terrace for Edward. He's near the exit, one hand in his pocket, looking very Ivy League.

Willing the anxiety away, I join him and we leave in silence.

* * *

"Did the note… say anything?" Edward asks. He looks uncomfortable.

"Didn't you read it?" I ask, smirking.

His eyes meet mine and the depression in his pushes the mirth out of mine. "I opened it to see who it was for, and then I put it aside. I respected his privacy." He looks down to his coffee cup. "And yours."

Chastened, I sit back. "No, it didn't say anything of consequence. It was just like all of the others… like everything was the same."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "Because you deserved better."

"You don't even know me."

"Don't have to. Some things are true on principle."

"Where were his principles?" The words are out before I can reel them back in. I regret speaking them, because I don't want to put a grieving man in the middle, but I don't feel bad for thinking them.

The waitress comes by with our pie: key lime for him and chocolate silk for me.

"Would you like to try it?" he asks, fork hovering.

"No, thanks." I wrinkle my nose. "I hate key lime, actually."

"You haven't had good key lime, then."

I take a bite of my own slice. "Can't go wrong with chocolate."

He plops a little piece of his pie on to my plate. Smiling, I shake my head and eat it.

It's good. Really good – like the richest cheesecake infused with lime.

"Oh…oh, wow."

He winks at me. _Told ya so._

I take another bite of mine, and then sit back. "Did you know? That he had two girlfriends?"

Edward frowns. "Yeah."

This hurts, and even though he has absolutely no allegiance to me, I feel betrayed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"What makes you so certain I didn't?" He shakes his head. "He'd always been that way, even in high school."

"So I was one in a long line of fools." My stomach twists. I put my fork down. "How are the two of you so different?"

"Do you have brothers and sisters?"

"No."

"Cousins?"

"A few."

"Are you just like them?"

I chuckle quietly, looking out the window. "No."

"Sharing blood doesn't mean you share a brain and a personality. It just so happens we looked alike. There were a lot of things we disagreed on, Bella. But make no mistake, he was my best friend. Every day I wake up is a day he isn't here. And it hurts. No matter what happened between the two of you, he's my brother, whether he was an asshole or note."

A little dam breaks inside of me, and I reach for a napkin. "I'm sorry."

He lets me cry in peace, offering his napkins once I've soaked mine.

"There are things I want to know, but I don't want to…disrespect you, or his memory, you know?"

"You can ask me anything. I'll be real with you if you'll be real with me."

"I wish he'd been real with me," I say.

"Me too."

"Does the other girl know about this?"

"Tanya? Yeah, she found a stack of pictures and notes. That's how I recognized you the day of the funeral."

I stare at him, shocked. "He kept all that stuff?"

He nods.

"But…"

"They'd already gotten engaged, too, when she found out. It just about broke her."

I don't know what to think. "I wonder if the last note to me was written before or after she found out."

"Probably before. They had a huge fight and he left to go back to his place."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Tanya called me the day after the crash." Edward looks at me, his eyes wet. "After the fight, I guess they didn't talk for a couple of days…and then he died."

* * *

_thank you for the gift of your reviews. i look forward to seeing what you have to say, and i love the comments, observations, wonderings and speculation._

_ i've been married for awhile now, but before that there was one guy that i loved who cheated on me...so i know how bad it hurts. i feel bad for bella, too._


	5. Deluxe

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization_

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - deluxe**

* * *

"Was it right after they fought? Did he leave angry or something?"

I know what Rose is thinking; I thought the same thing until I went over Edward's exact words.

"No. They had the fight, he left, and I guess it just so happened they didn't speak for a few days afterward." I shift on to my side and tuck my knees in. "The car accident was random. He was coming home from the store. It wasn't raining, he wasn't speeding. It wasn't even his fault. It just…happened."

Rose shakes her head, sighing. "That's messed up."

"I know."

"This must be so weird for you. I thought we were moving past this, and then you see his twin brother again six months later. It's like you guys are destined to be in each other's lives."

I've thought this, many times, but I've never said it out loud. "I feel that way too."

Reaching for my phone, I scroll through my contacts. Edward's name is there now; Masen's is finally gone. It took talking with Edward in to the wee hours of morning for me to finally let go of Masen's number. Actually I quit smoking that night, too.

"Are you going to call him?"

"Yes."

"Do you like him?"

She's back in front of me now, having switched from one side of my bed to the other so she can see my face when she asks me these questions.

There's little point in lying. "Yes."

"And you guys plan to hang out again." Rose rubs her hand over her face. "Slippery slope."

"I know," I whisper.

The rational part of me acknowledges that it would be best to part on friendly terms with Edward, to promise him that I'm here if he needs me, and to secure the same from him. But if I am honest with myself, and I nearly always am, there is more that I want from him.

I crave his approval, his attention, his affection. I want to be worthy of his time and his thoughts. He so effortlessly takes up residence in my mind; do I take up any in his?

Why does he fascinate me so? Is it because he looks like my past or in spite of it?

Weeks pass.

New Year's comes and goes. For the first time in years I have no one to kiss when the clock strikes midnight, but I do have a bevy of friends and we hug and toast and celebrate.

But I'm happier than I've been in a while. Caught up in the whirlwind feeling of possibility, I feel like anything could happen in the next three hundred and sixty five days if only I will let it.

Edward Cullen's phone number burns a hole in my phone. It bothers me that he hasn't tried to contact me, but I haven't tried calling him either so I can't blame him. Sometimes I worry that we would have nothing to talk about apart from the obvious, and I don't want to discuss that anymore. Is it messed up I want desperately to move on?

With him?

Yeah, there might be something wrong with me.

* * *

Yawning, I close my book and take my glasses off. It's late, and I'm exhausted. Just a couple of credits to go and I can graduate. I feel like I've been in school forever.

My phone rings. Tyler.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bella."

We've hung out a few times since we first met at the Sky Terrace. Good times.

"Hi, Tyler. What's up?"

"Not much. About to hit the sack. You?"

"Same. I've been studying all night."

"I won't keep you then. You wanna grab dinner tomorrow night?"

I smile at his persistence. If there was any doubt he was romantically interested, it's gone now. "Maybe. I'll let you know how I feel at the end of the day. It's been a long week."

"No problem. Call me when you get out of class."

"Will do. Night, Tyler."

"Bye, Bella."

We hang up, and I'm about to toss my phone aside so I can go brush my teeth when it rings again.

"Hello?"

"Bella?"

My heart squeezes. "Edward?"

"Hey… it's not too late to be calling, is it?"

"Not really. I am going to bed soon, though…what's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah…listen, I'm sorry I haven't called sooner. It's been hectic," he says.

"That's okay."

"Not really. I told you I'd call and I haven't. How've you been?"

"Okay. Super busy with classes…"

"Yeah, I feel you. I'm drowning in it myself."

There's a rather loaded pause and then:

"Anyway, I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow night."

"No, I'm not." _Sorry Tyler._

"There's this movie in the park thing… I don't know. It seemed like the kind of thing you'd be in to. I know it's kind of chilly – "

"I'd love to go," I blurt. "We can bring blankets. Lots."

"Good. Yeah, that would be good." He sounds unsure of himself now, like he doesn't know what to say now that I've accepted.

"Yeah."

The silence crackles between us.

"Okay. So. What's your address?"

Right, he'll be picking me up. I thrill at the thought of this; it's exciting and completely uncharted territory. I rattle off my address and he promises to come around six thirty.

I'm tired, but it takes me a while to fall asleep.

* * *

I wear my favorite jeans and a brand new sweater. Boots with plush, cashmere socks I got for Christmas, and a warm, but lightweight, jacket.

When I answer the door we share an awkward hug and he asks to use the bathroom before heading out. He holds the car door open for me, and I notice him notice me. Like, really see me. I wonder if it's the first time, or if he's secretly in to me like I'm in to him. I'll take either.

We make small talk in the car, and several times I am tempted to ask him what prompted him to call me and ask me out. I never get up the nerve, though.

Union Square is already crowded by the time we get there, but we manage to find a spot for ourselves. Edward has brought the most deluxe, thick blankets to sit on, and I'm glad… it's cozier than the chairs I see some people sitting on.

"What's in the bag?" I ask, trying to peer inside.

He reaches in and pulls out sodas, subs – "Turkey and cheese or ham and cheese?" "Turkey, please" – and rather large, flat box. He grins at me. "Key lime pie."

"You brought an entire pie?"

He winks and puts it back in to the bag.

The movie starts as night falls. I'm painfully, exquisitely aware of Edward sitting next to me, the warmth of his body bleeding through his sweater and mine. He still such a gentleman, regardless of the few times I think I feel him watching, and I fret that maybe I have misread him after all.

We eat our sandwiches and then it's totally quiet, except for the movie of course.

Eventually, I can't stand it, and I sneak a peek. He's smiling faintly, totally entranced by Roman Holiday. My heart melts and I look back to the screen, right in time to catch the onscreen kiss. It's such a sweet scene, but sad because they have to separate.

Oddly, I have the urge to cry. I take a deep breath and let it out very slowly.

And then I feel Edward come closer. "Ready for pie?" he whispers, his breath very warm in my ear.

I shiver, and not from the cold.

* * *

_thank you for sharing your remarks and sometimes, your stories. *hugs*_

_oh. yes. the Boys on Boards contest. .net/u/2956623/ please tell me some of you are writing for this?_

_and: along with some other fab girls, i'm going to be on the fic panel at this year's comic con. who's going to be there? would love to see you. :)_


	6. Pure

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompts - pure, lure**

* * *

I'll never look at key lime pie the same way again. It's clear now the ones I had before were cheap imitations and that if I want to enjoy it I must have the best. Edward knows his pie.

There's this pie place in Oakland called Lois the Pie Queen. Bathed in movie flicker, I lick the last of my slice off my fork and vow to bring Edward there for sweet potato pie. That's _my _favorite.

The movie ends, and people start to pack up and leave. I wish we could stay, but it's getting colder and not so cozy now that the crowd has dissipated. We roll up our blankets and collect our trash and wander back toward Edward's car.

"Thank you for bringing me here."

He nods. "No problem. Friends introduced me to these years ago… I've been coming ever since."

"You said it was the kind of thing you thought I'd like. How'd you know?"

His car is right up ahead; he pops the trunk open with a fob. "Seems like something girls in general like."

I get in to the car, keeping my face expressionless. This is not the answer I wanted, but Edward is good at keeping me at arm's length. Sometimes he comes closer, and for a second I think that maybe he wants to try what I want to try. But then he pulls back. I'm always relieved.

And a little hurt.

I wonder if maybe he asked me out tonight because he feels sorry for me, like he has some weird misplaced sense of responsibility to take care of his brother's girl or to make up for Masen's infidelity. Either way, pity is the last thing I need.

The city is gorgeous at night. I'd spend more time here, but I'm always so busy.

"You okay?"

We're crossing the bridge, passing over Yerba Buena. I've been zoning out to the mellow music he's got playing. Keeping my gaze on the passing lights outside, I nod. "Just a little tired."

The rest of the ride is quiet.

He looks uncomfortable. I think he knows I get it now.

That's okay. This is the way it should be. Even being friends with Edward Cullen is proving to be an emotional experience I probably can't handle, so forget about being anything more.

If I'm going try dating, it needs to be with someone where we're starting from scratch. A situation unfettered by weird connections and memories and pain. I need something brand new and without boundaries.

Pure.

* * *

"Well, it was good seeing you again," I say, giving Edward a cheerful smile. It's not totally fake, even if I do feel like going inside and crying.

He scratches his head, frowning. "Did I… say something wrong?"

Ha. He knows. He knows he's been inconsistent, and he knows I've noticed. Should I play along or cut the crap?

"Not at all. You say exactly what needs to be said, and I appreciate that. I like knowing where I stand with people." I tilt my head back and look at the sky. Despite the orange glow of the city, a few stars are visible.

"Where do you stand with me?" he asks.

I smile, finally looking at him. "Good night, Edward. Thanks again."

"Bella."

I ignore him and start walking up the stairs. He joins me, but I stop him from coming any further.

"You might know exactly what to say and what needs to be done, but it's harder for me." I pause, breathing deeply. "I thought we could hang out, but I'm beginning to think it's not the best idea. It's not good for you or me."

He searches my eyes and then looks away.

"Why did you give me that note?" I ask.

"Because it was yours."

"You could have sent it to me. My address was probably on one of the envelopes or something. Or you could have just tossed it."

"I knew I'd see you at the funeral."

"I didn't even belong there."

"You did belong there. He loved you."

"Is that why you were the one to call me and tell me he'd died?" I ask, swallowing back the urge to cry.

He reaches for me but I push him away.

"I need you to leave me alone," I whisper. My face is wet, and I want to be upstairs, where it's safe and warm. "You're a good guy, but being around you hurts."

"Why?" His voice breaks.

"You lure me out with your kindness and your handsome face and you're just like him but also nothing like him, the best parts of who he was with whoever you are and it's too much. Actually, forget that – you're a better man than he ever was." I'm crying openly now, eyes closed so I don't have to see the hurt on his face. "I can't do this… it's not right and you know it. That's why you keep up the push and pull, like you can't make up your mind. And I don't blame you, but I can't do it anymore."

"I want to. I've always wanted to, but it's hard," Edward says, shaky.

"Wanted to what?"

"Know you."

I stare at him, slightly shocked.

"I saw your picture a long time ago, on his fridge." He sticks his hands in his pockets, his default stance. "He said you were a friend until I asked him to hook me up and then he told me you were his."

It hurts to breathe.

"I wanted to know you. I hate what he did to you… and I just… I wasn't going to call. I didn't want to step over the line, you know? But I couldn't help it. I needed to know."

"Needed to know what?"

"If there would be something."

I don't know what to say. It's too much, more than I ever expected. I wanted him to want me, but now that he admits he does I'm overwhelmed.

Slowly, I turn to leave, but he grabs my arm.

"There is something, isn't there?"

* * *

_thanks for taking the time to review, guys! i'm sorry i hardly respond. as if Tiny wasn't already time consuming enough, now he's a bit sick. siiiigh._


	7. Demolish

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - demolish**

* * *

The more I look at Edward, the less I see Masen.

When I saw him at the funeral, it was like looking at his brother's ghost.

But by now? He couldn't be more different.

I don't know how much time passes, but eventually I nod in response to his question. "I think so."

He frowns and steps forward, on to the step right below mine. We're almost the same height now. Energy passes back and forth between us, making me so damn nervous. He gazes at me for a second, and then comes really close. "I know so."

"Don't," I whisper, terrified he'll kiss me or something.

I begin to push him away and back up at the same time, but the stairs behind me trip me up. Edward yanks me forward before I land on my butt. The momentum throws me in to his arms, and I'm reminded of dramatic old movie embraces, like the ones we watched tonight.

He doesn't kiss me, but he does hug me. It feels really good and I realize I haven't held on to someone this way in a really long time. Tears stream down my cheeks and then I'm sobbing, pushing my face in to his sweater and holding on to him like he's my last chance at survival. Letting go this way will completely demolish any walls between us; I trust him.

His arms are tight around me, and I can feel his heartbeat against my cheek.

"Do you want to come up?" I mumble, suddenly feeling bad for making him have this conversation with me in the cold.

"I should probably get going," he says, slowly releasing me.

I let go and step back, careful this time.

"Will you be okay?"he asks.

"Will you?"

He shrugs. "Can I call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?" He asks playfully, but I see the caution in his eyes. He thinks I spook easily, and he's right.

I touch his face like I've wanted to do all night, rubbing my thumb along his jaw. His eyes flutter shut, and he puts his hand over mine.

"Positive."

* * *

He was the last think I thought about before falling asleep, and he's the first thing I think about now that I'm awake.

It's overcast outside; I make myself breakfast and settle in for a mellow day of coffee, reading and catching up on emails.

I try not to wait for his phone call but I totally am. So much for being calm and navigating this delicate situation with prudence. Comparing Edward to anyone – especially Masen – is wrong but I can't help but notice that I've never wanted something to work as badly as I want this. And I don't even know why. It's not a quantifiable thing; it's a feeling in my heart and the pit of my stomach.

My phone rings.

I don't even look at caller ID. I know it's him. "Hello?"

"Hey…it's Edward."

_I know_. "Hi, Edward."

He laughs lowly. "So… it's easier for me to talk to you in person. Can you hang out today? Are you busy?"

I smile, feeling myself bloom under his attention. "Do you want to come by? I can make lunch."

"I'll be there in an hour or so."

"Sounds good."

He arrives with wine and French bread, brie and fruit.

I bite my lip, grinning. "I was going to make us something."

"It's second nature to come bearing gifts," he says, unloading the food on to my counter. "You like brie, right?"

"I love it."

"Good." He launches in to a description of the selections at Whole Foods, and how the guy in the Beer, Wine, and Cheese section made everything sound so delectable that Edward caved and bought and obscene amount. Of everything.

We don't even leave the kitchen. For the next few hours, we talk about everything, the things we would have – should have – chatted about before but probably deemed too insignificant in the wake of all the intensely dramatic issues we face. But we talk about school and "real" jobs after finally graduating, our families and how we grew up. My favorite haunts in the Bay, his secret hideaways in the city. I tell him about Lois the Pie Queen, and he promises to take me to his favorite part of Golden Gate Park.

I'm standing in my living room, sipping my second glass of Riesling, when he comes back from the bathroom.

For a second it's almost awkward again. He smiles almost shyly at me and plops down on to the couch. After a moment, I join him.

"I'm glad you came over today."

He nods. "Me too."

"We needed to do this." I set my glass down. "It feels like we did things backwards, like we went from the heavy stuff to the light."

"It does seem that way." He leans his head back, smiling lazily.

I want to run my fingers through his hair, so I do. He opens one eye and peers at me. I pull my hand back and jump up. "Do you want more wine?"

"I'm okay."

"Okay." I return to the kitchen anyway, trying to escape the loaded moment I caused.

But he's right behind me, and he blocks me when I try to step around him to get something from the fridge.

"Do you ever wonder if maybe he was the catalyst?" He sounds both hopeful and sad.

My heart beats wildly. "For…this?"

He nods.

"Yes. I mean… yes," I admit. This feels too fated to be anything else.

"Does that bother you?" he asks.

"It's tricky, I guess. Does it bother you?"

"A little."

I like that he is honest with me, even though it's rough.

"Bella?"

Something in his voice makes me put down the grape I was about to devour. He stands in front of me, his hand trailing the length of my hair.

"I'd really like to kiss you."


	8. Landscape

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - landscape**

* * *

"I want to kiss you, too."

We stand in the space between my fridge and the island, staring at each other. Doing this changes things, cements them. Even though I probably crossed a line the night I approached Edward at the lounge and he crossed one way before that with the note, keeping our interactions chaste has kept us in the safe zone. Buffered.

But it's going to happen sooner or later. The way he looks at me, and the way I feel about him… it's like it's already happened in the landscape of possibility. The wanting is tangible, even if it is a little bittersweet in its taboo-ness.

I suppose he comes to a decision because he pulls me close, sliding his arms around my waist. This is different than last night, when I cried and he held me. That was about comfort and connection.

He's a good bit taller than I am, and for a moment I push my face in to his shirt, like last night, smelling him. It's easier to breathe when I'm with him this way, like for the first time in forever I'm where I need to be. Ironic, considering the circumstances.

He could tilt my face up, but he doesn't, instead waiting for me to lift my face. I'm so nervous. Not about rejection, but about whether or not this is right. But then I look at him and all I see is him and I know it's okay. Not just okay – but like letting Edward go would be the most un-okay thing I could do.

My heart has been healing for months now, and even though I still hurt sometimes, I feel like my life belongs to me and it's okay to move on. I want Edward to feel that way, and I want to help him get there, regardless of who we were to one another when Masen was still alive. There are so many things I want to tell Edward, so many things I need him to know and that I need to know from him…

…but it will wait.

He leans down and kisses me and the only thing better than seeing him this close is feeling his mouth touch mine. He is slow and sensual, and sensitive to our special situation, careful to go as close to the edge as he can without going over.

And oh, do I want him to go over. I'm dizzy with it.

He wraps up his kiss and pulls back, kissing my eyelids as he retreats.

Neither of us moves for a long time.

* * *

It's late, nearly midnight. He holds my hand; I brush my fingers over his arm. His hand at the small of my back, my fingers in his hair. It's addicting. The same thing that satisfies this urge also feeds it: more and more contact.

"It's going to be hard," he says, his head in my lap.

I nod. "You're afraid people will talk when they find out how they met."

"I don't care about people." He gazes up at me, at my skeptical expression. "You don't know me well yet, Bella, but you'll see. I really don't care. This is… this is everything."

My heart expands like a balloon. I might fly away.

"But I need to know it's worth it. For me. For…" He sits up, running his hands through his hair. "I need to know I'm not a replacement for him."

I'm so upset I didn't tell him this before he had to bring it up. It's so obvious…talk about missing the forest for the trees. "You're not." My voice quivers, so I clear my throat. "Never. If you were we wouldn't be here right now. I couldn't do that, couldn't live like that. Every minute we spend together I separate the two of you more." I grab his hand and squeeze tightly. "I'm not like that."

"I didn't think you were. I just… had to say it."

"I know."

He squeezes back, and puts his head in my lap again. "I know what he did was incomprehensibly hurtful and stupid but I need you to understand that I miss him. And that him being gone means a big part of me is gone too. I know I'll be okay eventually but… I'm still grieving Bella. Some days it's hard to function because I think about him so much."

I nod, wiping the tears off my cheeks before they drip on to his.

"I'll understand if you want to wait. Or… or if you don't want to, and decide that this is too complicated."

"It is complicated," I say. "But it's worth it to me. Because in the end, if we do this and it works, we'll have a life together and everything else just fades away."

Now he's the skeptical one.

"I'm not saying stick our heads in the sand and pretend life is fabulous twenty four seven." I smile ruefully, loving the softness of his hair between my fingers, how shades of red and gold are visible in the lamplight. I'd love to see it in the sun. "I mean that I would be willing to deal with some discomfort now if it means I end up with you. I don't want to lose you now that I've found you. I can't help who I was with before, Edward."

I remember how Masen laid claim to me when Edward showed interest, and a frisson of regret and anger shudders through me. Why did he have to be so selfish? He had someone; I didn't. Well, I thought I did…but it was an illusion. I could have had someone. I could have had this.

"Hey," Edward says.

I glance down at him.

"Where'd you go?" he asks.

"I'm here."

He nods, looking like he doesn't believe me but chooses to let it go.

"Edward?"

"Hm?"

"Which picture was it?"

"The one on his fridge?"

I nod.

"You guys were with a couple of other people; it looked like a concert."

I shake my head, remembering. "I had on a purple tank top."

"I wanted to know you."

"Well, now you do."

He half-smiles. As time goes on, I'll come to recognize that look. It always precedes a kiss.

* * *

**_the song "Remember the Good Things" by Milosh fits this story nicely. _**

_you guys are the best. i love reading your thoughts and comments, your reactions. so feisty, so good. thank you for sharing them with me. Tiny Tyrant is a bit better (we think it's mild reflux) but he had his shots today. talk about ouch; i nearly cried along with him. i was the same way with my (now 8 year old) first._

_k, enough dotey-mommy talk. i know how barfy that gets. _


	9. Streak

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - streak**

* * *

"I'm going home for the weekend," he says, stirring his coffee. He's being casual, but I know he knows this makes me nervous. It shouldn't, but it does. I think sometimes we both feel like this is too good to be true, that what we have is fragile.

It's been a week since Edward and I first kissed. We've only seen each other once since that night, mainly because we're so busy, but when Friday rolled around he emailed, asking if he could see me later on. I would have asked him had he not asked first, and I love knowing he craves my presence as much as I crave his.

But now he's telling me he's leaving tomorrow morning. My heart sinks. In the short time I've been truly acquainted with Edward, I've become attached. Even if we don't see one another as much as I'd like at this point, it's nice to know he's right across the Bay. Now he'll be in Washington State until Sunday night.

Biting my lip, I keep my eyes on the steam rising from my cup. "That's good. Your parents miss you, I know."

"My mom's had a bad week." He rubs his eyes. "You know how it is- some days are better than others."

I nod, because I do know. "I'll miss you."

He reaches across the little table and links our index fingers. "Me too."

* * *

Edward and I send a lot of texts over the next two days so when one comes through around ten thirty at night, I assume he's letting me know that he's back in the city. I'm wrong.

_You up?_

Grinning, I plop on to the couch. _Yeah. U home yet?_

_Back in CA but on your side of the bay._

My heart skips a beat. _Coming over?_

The doorbell rings, answering my question (and my wishes). I can't believe he came to see me first. It feels good to matter to someone this way.

He looks exhausted and adorably scruffy with a chin full of stubble. We hug, and then I pull him into the warmth of my apartment.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, smiling.

"Wanted to see you. It's been a long weekend."

He looks dejected, and I just want to hold him. "What happened?"

"They've been going through Masen's old stuff. Finally. You know, what to save, what to sell or toss out."

I lead him to the living room and we get under my big blanket. "That must have been rough."

"It was. Is. Anyway, we talked a lot, catching up, and they seem pretty curious about you. It's been awhile since I was this serious about someone."

His words make me feel cherished, like I am finally someone's priority and not just an option. I don't know that I've ever felt this way, with anyone.

"… and they want to meet you."

"They do?" I blink in shock. What on earth did he tell them about me? "Do they know _how _we met?"

He laces his fingers through mine. "I told them. I wanted to."

"What did they say about it?" I'm so apprehensive; this is one of those things that can sound quite sordid if not put in to proper perspective.

"They're pretty supportive. Mom didn't really like hearing about the bullshit Masen pulled with you and Tanya…"

I stay silent, listening.

"They might come out in a couple of weeks, and if they do, they'll probably ask about you. Do you want to meet them?"

"Of course." The thought of meeting his parents definitely makes me nervous, but I'm glad it'll happen sooner than later. "I want to introduce you to my dad, too."

"Okay." He yawns, stretching his arms over his head.

"Do you want to just stay here tonight?" I blurt out. My face warms. That sounds a little forward, but he's got to know I mean to sleep.

He laughs a little, putting his palms on my likely red cheeks.

"I would. I'll have to leave early in the morning, though."

"That's okay; me too."

While he showers, I turn off the lights in my apartment and make sure the locks are secure. I was already in my pajamas when Edward came, so I brush my teeth – heart pounding at his naked proximity, safe behind the shower curtain – and climb in to bed. Even though we've kept things low key when it comes to getting physical, sleeping in the same bed is intimate in and of itself. I wonder what will happen tonight, what I want to happen.

"Turn off the light?" he asks, emerging from the steamy bathroom.

"Yes, please."

It goes dark, and then I feel him climb in next to me, his body super warm from his shower. We assemble ourselves in to an awkward tangle, and I don't know if we're trying to go to kiss or cuddle or just go to sleep.

I haven't kissed him since Wednesday night, when I met him for a late afternoon coffee in the city.

I'm antsy and yes… a little turned on by his presence.

"Edward?" I whisper in the dark.

"Yeah?" he whispers back, his fingers leaving a streak of heat across the skin my back. I arch against the contact.

I scoot even closer, and after feeling for his face, kiss him. He responds in kind, nudging me on to my back. He pushes his body between my legs, kissing me all the while. I run my fingers through his hair and he slides a hand up under my shirt, his fingertips grazing my ribs.

It's like the darkness gives us permission to go a little further than usual, to touch and feel when we usually only focus on what our mouths are doing. Our kissing gains momentum until I'm almost gasping. He feels so good, and all we're doing is rolling around.

Eventually, though, sleepiness overtakes the both of us. The passion wanes gently until we're quiet and still. Falling asleep next to Edward might be one of the safest, sweetest feelings I've ever felt.


	10. Routine

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - routine**

* * *

My father served the city of Oakland for two and a half decades before calling it a day. He still has those cop instincts though, and if I don't watch it, I find myself being interrogated. But I know his routine, and I have one of my own when it comes to dealing with him.

He's been stirring the same cup of coffee for about ten minutes, watching me intently. Ignoring him, I continue eating and pretending to read the comics. After a moment he pushes the paper aside and clears his throat.

"You know I don't like this," he says.

"I know."

"Do you?"

"Dad, you don't like anyone I date. You treated all of my boyfriends in high school like small time crooks." I make a face, dragging my home fries through ketchup. "And you hated Masen."

"Masen was a schmuck." He sips his coffee. "God rest his soul."

I bite my lip so I don't smile. It's either laugh or cry, and anyway it's life, this mix of sad and funny. I adore my father, even when he's being irreverent and ornery.

"So when do I get to meet Edward?" he asks, probably expecting me to stall.

"I was thinking maybe Sunday morning, for brunch."

He nods, approval glinting in his eyes. "Lois. For pie and pancakes."

"He loves pie."

"Does he, now."

I roll my eyes. "Yes, so, be on your best behavior. He's important to me."

We move on to other topics, but he's distracted and I know he's thinking about Edward and me. Taking my cue from Edward, I told my father the honest truth upfront, the circumstances that brought us together. Not surprisingly, he didn't like it.

I'm not surprised when he sighs loudly now, clanking his spoon on to the saucer. "You do understand why I find this so disturbing, right?"

I shrug, and then nod slowly. "It's not conventional…"

"It's not right. What about honor? Where's his? He's dating his dead brother's girlfriend? How do you know he's not just like Masen?"

Cringing, I sit back. The food in my stomach feels like lead. _Thanks a lot, Dad._

"Edward is one of the best people I know. If anyone was lacking in the honor department, it was Masen." I look up, rivaling his stare with one of my own. "And…whatever. Masen's gone. He can't defend himself or change things or apologize for what he did so let's just leave him out of it. Edward is _nothing_ like him. I have never been with anyone like him, Daddy. You'll see. He's…" I trail off as I realize nothing I say will convince my father – he'll simply have to meet Edward and see for himself.

The thing is, nothing he's said is anything new. I am certainly my father's child, because every argument and concern he's voiced today echoes one I've had myself. I swear, I've never picked apart a situation or relationship the way I have with this one.

This how I know it's right. I've thought it over, weighed the pros and cons, and in the end the answer is always the same: Edward and I are meant to give this a chance. Running away because one or both of us is scared would be cowardly. So what if we have more to contend with than usual?

"I wouldn't darken your door with someone I didn't feel was worthy," I say, my voice quiet. "I've been wrong in the past, but not this time. I owe it to myself to see this through." I meet my father's eyes. "Because if he's the one, and I disregard him, I'll never forgive myself."

* * *

Edward grins over his shoulder at me, turning off of the concrete path and on to a grassy section.

His happiness is contagious, and I'm smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. We've been riding our bikes through Golden Gate Park all afternoon, something I'd never done despite living right across the Bay for most of my life.

He hops off of his bike and I follow suit, walking beside him until we find a spot to sit. As usual, the park is full of people enjoying the sunlight and open space; a bunch of little kids are playing tag, squealing as they run. Some guys are playing hacky sack a couple of feet away.

"I could do this every Saturday," I say, resting my arms behind my head.

"You should." He lies beside me, his body warm from sun and exercise. "We should."

He peeks sideways at me, and my tummy flutters at mention of _we_. We came so close to never meeting. When I think of how thin the thread tying our fates together is, it scares me. Although, when it comes to fate and destiny and all that maybe there is no _almost_. What's meant to be will be.

A sharp, briny breeze rustles through the trees overhead, snapping me out of my head. I'm always doing this, losing myself in thought. Rose teases me about it, so much so that she once bought me a tiny statue of _The Thinker_ for Christmas.

Edward's quiet beside me, his eyes focused upward. "So you're sure you'll be able to handle the Chief tomorrow?" I tease.

"I hope so."

"I hope so, too," I sigh, grabbing his hand. "I do what I want, but it sure would be nice to have him on our side."

He nods silently, apparently a little lost in thought himself. Gone is the gaiety of our bike ride, replaced by a more somber thoughtfulness. Somehow, I know he's thinking about his brother. In the few weeks we've become a unit, I've begun to know his expressions and tones.

Knowing he's thinking of Masen makes me think of him, too. I remember things like our first kiss, and the first time we had sex. There actually weren't too many of those times, as so much of our relationship was long distance, but still. I wish now I'd never been with him that way, even though it's come up with Edward and he expected and accepted it. He was in a relationship not too long ago himself; neither of us come to the table with clean slates.

Funny how the past takes up some much headspace when there isn't a damn thing we can do about it.

I roll on to my side and prop up on my elbow. "I want to come here in the summer with you, and have a picnic when it's warm."

"Sounds good."

"There are so many things I want with you," I continue, melty with yearning. "It kind of scares me."

His eyes seem greener in the daytime. He pulls me closer, half draping me across his upper body.

He reaches up and frees my ponytail. "I want you so much it scares me, too."

* * *

_you guys. the Boys on Board contest has some really, really good entries! i'm rather excited... http: / www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net /u/ 2956623/_

_sweet, salty summertime fare. _


	11. Dread

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt- dread**

* * *

I'm being dramatic, I know, so I ignore the cold trickles of dread fluttering around my gut and focus instead on what a pretty morning it is, on how much I like the song on the radio. In a couple of minutes we'll pull in to Lois the Pie Queen's where my father is likely already holding a table, waiting for us to arrive.

"I'm looking forward to meeting your dad," Edward says, glancing at me.

"Oh, really?" I doubt this is true, but it's sweet of him to try.

He laughs. "I'm one of the good guys, Bella. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

And just like that, the tension in my body dissolves. He's right. He's everything I told my father and more. Suddenly I can't wait to show him off.

Like most Sundays, it is hard to find parking when we get to Lois the Pie Queen's, and we end up having to park a couple blocks down. We pass my father's car on the way in. From the outside, the older, red building isn't much to look at but the inside is bright and welcoming, and it smells amazing. I spy my father sitting at a corner table.

He puts his paper down when he sees us.

"Hey, Daddy."

I bend to hug him, but he stands up instead, squeezing me tight. "Hi, Bells."

"This is Edward. Edward, this is my Dad, Charlie."

They shake hands. "Hi, Mr. Swan. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, son. Bella's been talking about you, so I'm glad you could join us today."

Edward grins at me as we sit down.

Turns out, he was right –he and Charlie hit it off quite well, chatting about sports, jobs in the city and even a bit of politics. If my father has any reservations about Edward's family or the way we met, he's doing a good job of hiding it.

Breakfast is a mellow affair, the way it usually is when it's me and my dad, only now we have Edward. I'm warm-happy in my deepest parts, grateful for the fellowship of people I care for. Before I know it, the plates are cleared and we've ordered pie to go. I order two pieces of sweet potato – I intend on making Edward have some later, and Charlie encourages Edward to try his favorite, lemon icebox pie.

Something tells me he'll like it.

* * *

It starts off the way it always does, little kisses deepening into long, slow ones.

Edward pulls me on to his lap, my knees on either side of his thighs. We're closer this way, our entire bodies pressing instead of just our mouths. He's the sweetest kisser. I love being this way with him. It's hot, but it's also really romantic, making me equal parts horny and swoony. His hair is soft and I tell him so, describing the colors to him, explaining how I love it in the sun. He smiles, humoring me, listening until he's not, and then he's shutting me up with his mouth, kissing away my rambling.

His hands smooth over my hips and down to my behind, where he squeezes. I smile in to the kiss, breaking contact.

He smiles too, now sliding his hands down the back of my jeans and cupping my butt that way, skin on skin.

"Bold boy," I whisper, leaning forward and biting his ear.

He nudges me away and kisses my neck, sucking and licking. He's making me wet.

"Edward," I half moan, pushing away with great effort.

His eyes are drowsy with arousal. He watches me, licking his bottom lip.

"I want you right now." I rock against him, letting him know.

He cocks his head. "Just right now or in general?"

"Right now and in general."

He stands up, taking me with him, and carries me down the hall.

I've only been in here once before, and that was when I was being given the tour. Most of our time has been spent outdoors, in restaurants, or at my place.

Or lately, on Edward's couch, where we can be sexual without having sex.

Edward's bed is messy; he has even more pillows than I do. It's comfortable though, and huge, with expensive down comforters and high thread count sheets. We all have our _thing: _mine is pricey coffee, his is exceptional linens. And I'm thankful for it now, because even though I'd be happy to make out with Edward anywhere, it's especially nice in this cushy cloud of a bed.

Until this moment, we have done nothing more than kiss. But now we tangle together in new ways, lips and tongues, arms and legs. He peels my jeans off and tosses them aside. I hear them land with a little smack on the hardwood floor. Then he reaches between my thighs and touches me, tickling his fingers past my panties and inside. It's been a long time since anybody touched me like that and I come quickly, panting in to his mouth.

"Let me love you, Bella," he whispers.

* * *

_thanks for the love, you guys. 3 and twiggalina, this chapter (at least the first half) is for you. ;)_


	12. Stem

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - stem, hem**

* * *

"Okay." My voice is quiet. I'm slightly shaking, high off of both my orgasm and what he's just said to me. I'm not sure if his words were meant to speed things up or slow them down, but there's been a shift. Fingering the hem of my shirt, he leans down to kiss my belly. We pull my shirt off and then I help him with his.

We kiss as the rest of our clothing comes off, like we don't want to be physically apart, not even to get naked.

I want this moment to happen.

I don't want it to happen.

I want the satisfaction of knowing his body.

I want this sharp shiver of anticipation indefinitely.

He slows his kiss. It's luxurious and deep and my jaws ache so good from being open this way. Like a flower turning toward the sun, I angle myself to face him with every part of me. The way he moves is so thorough and complete; he leaves no proverbial stone unturned.

He's beautiful, he is. I realize with an ache that he is exactly who I need, that he is no one but himself. I think a part of me, in the cobwebbiest recesses of my heart, worried that when the time came to do the deed the reality of who he was would end my charade. But it isn't that way at all. I'm one hundred percent clear on what I'm doing, and on who this man is.

He's Edward. And I'm falling in love with him.

Maybe I already have.

He puts on protection and then rolls on to his back, taking me with him. I straddle him, leaning over him so that we can kiss some more. I rub myself up and down his body, loving how he tenses beneath me. After a time he stills my movements and guides my hips directly. I take him in one go, exhaling when he's inside.

"I can't," he groans, like he's having an argument with himself. He rolls us over again so he's once more on top. "Maybe later. Right now I need…" He thrusts deep, his eyes never leaving mine. "I need to control this."

I scratch at him softly, spurring him on.

We make love for a long time. He's a dedicated lover, like with everything in his life and our relationship. He looks at me like I'm something rare and precious, but he takes me hard when I ask him to.

* * *

"What are you thinking about?" Edward asks.

"What we just did." His answering silence tells me he wonders if I regret the sex, so I roll to face him. "And how much I want to do it again."

He smiles, and it's breathtaking. "Give me at least an hour. I'm not seventeen."

I pinch him playfully and he nips my neck; I wouldn't be surprised to find little smudges all over my body. He sucks and then soothes…marking me, maybe.

"Does it ever surprise you?" I wonder. "How fast this happened?"

"It only happened fast on the surface. Things have been rumbling beneath for months. Nearly a year."

"Like a volcano."

He smirks. "Just like."

"Nearly a year? Really?"

He nods.

"But didn't you have a girlfriend?"

"For part of that time, yeah."

I consider this.

"I couldn't help being attracted to your picture. You're a beautiful woman. I moved on, though, right up until…"

"The funeral."

He nods once, his eyes taking on that lack luster look of far-away. I let him go there, understanding the importance of remembering, feeling and processing. I've come a long way. Though Masen left an impression on me, I have moved on. I've accepted it- all of it. After all, I wouldn't have Edward had it not been for Masen's love and subsequent betrayal. But it's different for Edward. He has another, older brother, and parents who love him, but he will always be one half of a no-longer-whole, even years from now. I don't doubt that he will know happiness, and that he knows it now with me, but I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone _that _close. I can tell on the days it's especially hurting him, by his broken voice on the phone or the way he clings to me when we meet.

There's little I can do. I just want to be here for him, and to love him enough. I want him to feel safe with me, even when he's contending with the most negative emotions. If I can stem the tide of his sadness, even if for only a minute, I will – in any way I can.

"Thank you for reaching out," I say after awhile, remembering my hopelessness the day of the funeral. "I feel like you…saved me."

"No, thank you." He smiles wryly. "You took a chance. I wouldn't have trusted me if I were you, but you did and I'm glad. I'm glad he didn't jade you."

Snuggled beneath his comforter, we're facing one another, on our sides. My hands are tucked under my chin but he keeps his hand on my hip, his thumb swishing absently back and forth across my skin. I wasn't joking when I said I wanted him again.

I scoot closer and kiss his cheeks, his nose, and his mouth.


	13. Sofa

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - sofa**

* * *

Toenails painted, I cap my bottle of nail polish and sit up. They look good, pretty. The weather's warming up some, here and there, and I'll be able to wear sandals today… not that Oakland's winters are all that brutal in the first place. It gets cold, but nothing like in some parts of the country.

I needed to do something for myself: I woke up feeling off today.

Not sure why; it's just one of those things, I guess. It's been a busy week for both Edward and me, but I suspect I'd be moody even if our time together hasn't been limited. There is a part of me – and I _hate_ that part – that worries things are going too well. Life has a way of balancing itself. Masen's death was intense and awful, and I learned all sorts of things that forced me to reevaluate what I thought we'd had. But then meeting Edward was one of the best things that had ever happened to me. It was then, and it is now.

I have yet to meet his parents, but that's about to change. They fly in next Friday night and leave the following Sunday. I'm not worried about meeting them, per se. I'm just anxious in general.

There's a knock at the door, and I go to answer it, walking funny so I don't smudge my toenails.

"Hey." It happens every time, this smile that starts deep inside and beams outward till it irradiates my face. For a second, I forget my funky mood.

Edward's smile is soft. He's tired, I can tell. His phone rings right as he wraps his arms around me, and I feel him sag a little. He kisses the top of my head and then lets go, following me inside.

"You okay?" I ask, shutting the door with my hip.

Shrugging, he slides the phone from his pocket. "Let me see who that was." He glances down at the screen and frowns. "Sorry… let me just –" he breaks off and goes back outside.

I blink at his abruptness, wondering what's going on.

_What if things don't work out?_

Indeed. What if they don't? But it's unpleasant having thoughts like that, and honestly kind of stupid. Edward has given me no sign that things are anything but great between us. I can't let other men pay for what one did wrong… especially when there is only one that I want, and maybe forever.

I empty the dishwasher with gusto, not wanting to waste energy fretting over things that will likely never happen.

But when I'm done, Edward has still not come inside. Chewing my lip, I retrace my steps to the front door and open it. He's a couple of feet away, his back to me.

"Love you, too. So much..."

I slink back inside and sit on the sofa, feeling shady for overhearing. It's probably his mom or something, but I can't help the icky feeling I feel at hearing him say those words. Why couldn't he just talk to whoever it is, in front of me? I realize I might have more trust issues than I thought I did, and that they're kicking in really belatedly and really inconveniently.

He joins me a moment later, resting his hand on my knee. "So… what did you want to do today? I'm kind of hungry."

I love the weight of his hand, warm even through the dress I'm wearing. He affects me so physically. I hope he always does.

"There's this rooftop spot down in Berkeley… Mexican food."

"Perfect."

"You want me to drive?"

He shrugs, and then nods. "If you want, yeah. That would be nice."

We stand to leave, but I step in front of him. "So… who was on the phone?"

He gazes down at me, and the little crease between his eyes deepens. "My cousin Kate. Masen and I spent summers with her when we were children."

I swallow, feeling out of sorts. I'm relieved for me and saddened for him. Kate must've been close to Masen, too. There is a whole group of people who know him in a way I never did, and never could have. Once, this would have broken my heart but now? It's more of an slight ache than a sting. No matter how inappropriately he dealt with his romantic entanglements, he had countless other intimate relationships with friends and family, and they sound like they were pure and good.

"What's wrong?" asks Edward. He looks wary now.

"Nothing," I say, vaguely ashamed. But even the tiniest of lies are still lies. "I just - I overheard you just now."

I'm still learning his expressions. Something I don't recognize falls over his face, and he takes a breath. "Not all men cheat."

Tears spring to my eyes. I never want to feel _this _way, or to make him feel _that_ way. "I know."

"Not all men cheat," he repeats.

I nod. "I know… "

"I will never cheat on you. Ever."

Damn, he's making me cry.

"I'll tell you everything if you want me to," he says.

Shaking my head, I grab him and hold on to him, forcing myself in to his arms. "I trust you." And I do.

He turns and collapses back on the sofa, bringing me with him so that I fumble on to his lap. We sit the way we often do, with me straddled across him so that we're as close as we can be. He unbuttons my cardigan a bit and kisses my collarbone.

Sighing, I run my fingers through his hair. "I missed you."

"I know; I miss you during the week, too," he murmurs, his words brushing my skin in little puffs. He kisses my neck; I kiss his forehead.

Our lips meet. He smoothes his hand up and down my back, up and down, and then up and under my dress. I link my fingers around his neck, holding him so that I can kiss him good, telling him without words how I feel and what I want.

He pushes my body back a little and slips his hand down my panties, touching me.

"I love how you touch me," I whisper, resting my forehead on his.

His fingers are inside me, and I'm rocking on them, against him, with him. My mind isn't blank, it's filled with him. I want so much with him. Everything.

He moves faster; I move faster.

And when I come he whispers he loves me.


	14. Grass

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline -Sultry**

**prompt - grass, pass, ass**

* * *

Edward's bedroom has the best afternoon light. It fills the room with a buttery brilliance, dust particles twinkling in it like stars.

His fingers trace along the skin of my stomach, making the muscles there quiver with each pass. Even so, I press closer.

"So you don't have a very big family," he concludes.

I shake my head, watching the shadows his plants create across the hardwood floor. "Not really. And we're kind of all spread out, anyway. I only have one cousin. I get along with my Mom, though, and I'm really close to my Dad."

Edward laughs a little. "So different than what I'm used to. I have a huge family. I mean, _huge_. My entire life it's been… family get togethers and crazy Christmas dinners and… it's always someone's birthday. Always."

"That sounds nice," I say, and I mean it. My childhood was great, but Edward's sounds like it was very warm and crowded, in the best way.

His bed is warm and crowded, too, and we're right in the middle of it, snuggled in with all those blankets and pillows. I teased him when we got here today that he must not like sleeping alone, because there's no way someone could feel lonely surrounded by all that stuff. He didn't disagree. "Maybe you need to stay more often," he'd said.

Movies in his bed led to loving in his bed and then, like always, talking. I love that things never feel rushed with us. We might not be able to spend as much time together during the week as we'd like, but the weekends are ours and we make the most of them.

And each other.

Eventually I asked him about Kate, and why he felt he couldn't speak to her in front of me. He explained that Kate had been crying on the phone about her boyfriend, and that he hadn't really thought twice before stepping outside to console her.

"Does she do that a lot? Call with boy troubles, I mean?" I'd asked. I couldn't imagine calling my cousin Peter to discuss my boyfriends but then again, he's kind of a dolt.

But apparently Edward's family is incredibly tight knit, and his cousins are some of his very best friends. Most of his aunts and uncles live near his parents and grandparents, in and around Seattle. The ones that don't, like Kate and her siblings, live a couple of hours away.

"I'll go back one day," he says. "I love it here but... it's not the same."

Even though we're still new, the thought of him one day leaving to go back home makes my tummy flip.

The pads of his fingertips are rough; they tickle-scratch down my thighs and settle on my ass. He grins up at me, looking like a little kid.

A really naughty little kid.

God, I love him like this. I tell him.

His eyes soften and his smile fades. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Have you been in love?" he asks.

"Have you?"

He squeezes my buns. "Once. In college."

"Once, in college," I say, smiling. "Me too." And then I feel the need to clarify. "I think… that there's a difference between loving and being in love."

"True."

"Like, I love chocolate silk pie but I'm in love with sweet potato."

He snorts and pulls me closer.

"And I've loved other boys but… I'm in love with you."

"So I'm your sweet potato?" he whispers, grinning.

"Yeah," I laugh, kissing his throat. "That would be an awful nickname though."

* * *

So I said I wasn't nervous about meeting Edward's Mom and Dad, but now that the moment has come my stomach is in knots. I want desperately for them to like me.

Normally, I'm not too worried about this sort of thing. I like myself, and my boyfriend's parents have always liked me too. But it's different with the Cullens. After all, I have dated both of their sons – even though the two relationships are so completely different and separate by this point that it's almost a non issue.

Almost.

"Stop," Edward says, rubbing my back.

I glance at him. "What?"

"You're over thinking. It'll be fine." He holds the restaurant door open for me.

"Thanks," I murmur.

It's a gorgeous restaurant, Italian food, not too uppity – one that I've heard of but never been to. Edward's parents are already present, and we are led to their table right away. It overlooks the bay. They stand as we approach, and his mother's eyes literally light up when she sees Edward. "Hey, honey."

"Hi Mom."

They hug, and his father looks at me. He smiles this gentle smile, and it reminds me of Edward. So does his height and his grass green eyes. "Hi, Bella; I'm Carlisle. It's nice to meet you."

"Hi, Carlisle." We shake hands; he holds one of mine between both of his.

"I'm Esme. We have heard –" she glances knowingly at Edward – "_so_ much about you."

I go to shake her hand too, but she pulls me into a hug. It's a little unexpected, but nice. She smells fabulous, like expensive perfume.

"Oh, really?" I laugh awkwardly. Part of me doesn't even want to know what they've heard, or from whom.

She winks at me as we sit, and just like that the tension evaporates. Edward might look like his father, but his demeanor reminds me of his mother. They both have the ability to put someone at ease.

* * *

_thank you so very much for the continued love and messages and reviews and all that good stuff. i love it, i do. you guys are what makes this so fun and worthwhile. _

_and TT is bawling (of course his dad is watching him where i can still hear the pissed off cries. thanks, babe) and the older child is begging for dinner. _

_sigh._


	15. Expand

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - expand**

* * *

They insist on being called Carlisle and Esme. That's cool; my Dad's the same way with my friends. He says he doesn't need to feel any older than he is.

Esme is kind and friendly, but I catch her watching me sometimes. She'd said that they'd heard so much about me, and I wonder if that was Edward or if Masen said anything too. I almost hope he didn't. It might make things a little less… uncomplicated. Rose berates me for wishing that things had started out different, for wishing that I didn't have a past with Edward's brother. She says it's pointless and depressing, and she's right.

The only thing I can affect is the present, and that's where I fight to keep my focus.

Actually, that's not too hard at the moment. The food is delicious, the wine and atmosphere are warming, and the company is good. Better than good: wonderful. If Edward's extended family is as relaxed, affectionate and funny as his parents, I can see why he wants to move back home one day.

By the end of the evening I feel like I belong with them.

It's unexpected. And it feels amazing.

* * *

"Bella?"

I look at myself in the bathroom mirror, mild shock evident on my face as I answer the phone. "…Esme?"

"Hi. I was wondering if you wanted to meet me for a light lunch while the guys hang out."

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I look like a gaping fish.

"I mean… if you aren't busy. Edward told me you probably have a lot of schoolwork – " she says quickly.

"No, no. I'm free. Um… where shall we meet?"

"Our hotel has a couple of great restaurants…"

We make plans and I hang up, surprised as all hell. I'd figured her interest in me last night was mainly borne of curiosity – and politeness. It is appropriate that she and Carlisle would want to meet their son's main squeeze, especially seeing how serious he and I have gotten with one another. I get the impression their tight knit ways include significant others and they'd wanted to welcome me in to the fold or something.

But for his mother to request alone time with me? I'm touched, and a little apprehensive.

Because now it'll be just me and her, with no one to run interference when the uncomfortable questions begin.

I take BART in to the city and then a cab to the Palace Hotel. Esme meets me in the lobby, assuring me she hasn't been waiting long.

"Have you been here before?" she asks, hugging me gently.

I shake my head. "I haven't spent as much time on this side of the Bay as I'd like…"

She nods in understanding. "It's a lovely city, but I've heard great things about Oakland, as well." Her manners are impeccable. I smile inwardly at her grace and attempt to connect with me. "The atrium here is marvelous, though…"

We make small talk as we stroll to one of the restaurants. Talking to her is as easy as it was last night, and I find that I really want to get closer to her. Not just because she is Edward's mom, but because she shines and I can't help but be attracted to her light.

The table we're given is cozy, and in a corner.

"So…Edward is out with Carlisle?" I ask, running my finger down the condensation on my water glass. He'd told me he was spending their last day with them, so I'd automatically assumed he'd meant both of his parents.

"Yes. They went to a sports bar."

"Seriously?" I chuckle; that doesn't seem like Edward somehow. Or his Dad, come to think of it.

Esme rolls her eyes. "It's this thing that they do. Even back when Masen was around." Her words are clear and direct, but her gaze is focused on her napkin. "They love watching all the big games."

I nod. "My father's like that. He's had season passes to all the Raiders games for years."

She smiles, nodding.

Our appetizers come and for a minute we just eat, our remarks on mainly the food.

Then she looks at me and I just know this is it.

"Edward told me you used to see Masen."

I swallow my food, and clear my throat. "Yes. We met in college. Senior year. We were mostly friends… for awhile. And then. You know." I bite my lip and look at my plate. My face feels like it's on fire.

"Edward said he wanted to know you, but… I suppose the timing was never right," Esme sighs.

That's one way of looking at it, I guess. I'm still surprised how much Edward shared with her.

I decide to be blunt, because really – it's who I am and there's no other way around this. It worked with Edward when we first told each other how we felt; it has to work now.

"I had a pretty good relationship with Masen, but I know now it… wasn't what I thought it was. I don't want you to think this is easy for me, because it isn't. I know none of it is easy for you. I know. I just… I'm so sorry. For everything." My chest tightens. I'm rambling, but saying all of this – and to Esme Cullen – is really hard.

She nods, her eyes shining.

_Please don't cry. Please don't. I can't handle it if you cry._

"Things have a way of working themselves out. They have to. Maybe not the way we want, but they work out. I don't know… I'm not going to try to understand why he was taken from me because I'll never know. I just have to deal with the fact that he's gone. And I have another son who needs me, and that's all it is. If I think about anything else I'll go crazy," she says. Her voice is shaking and so are her hands. I wish I know her well enough to hold them.

It's impossible to imagine being in her shoes. I wonder how she manages the day to day.

"Anyway." She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye. "I invited you out today to let you know that we appreciate this isn't easy for either of you. I think you're doing something brave, following your heart like this. I can see it how you look at Edward, and how he looks at you. I think you're really good for my son," she continues. "The one you're with. It's just, it's right and I hope you treat each other well, and that you focus on what you _have_ and not what you _had_."

Now my eyes are blurry and I blink furiously. "Thank you," I whisper.

"No, thank _you_," she says. "For Edward… you're something bright that came out of something dark."

If anyone else had said this to me, it could have sounded insincere or even corny, but from her it is a gift. My breath comes easy now. Her words make my heart expand; they give me exactly what I didn't know I needed.

But I did.


	16. Gold

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry**

**prompt - gold**

* * *

"I told you she'd like you. They both do," he says regarding his parents.

I pull my fingers through his hair over and over. It relaxes me as much as it does him. "I know. But you can understand why I was nervous, right?"

"Yeah." He clicks through the channels for awhile, but gives up eventually and starts to put down the remote.

"Hold on," I say, grabbing it. Sometimes I like watching the food network to see if anything will catch my eye. Right now there's a show about chocolate crepes. I'll have to try those.

We watch quietly for awhile, commenting every once in a while.

Outside, the sun breaks from behind the clouds, flooding my living room with light and illuminating the gold in Edward's coppery hair.

"Your hair is such an unusual color," I remark, not for the first time. "It's so, so pretty."

He snorts. "You only love me for my hair."

I shove him, smiling.

"It runs in the family," he says. "My grandma had hair just like this."

"On which side?"

"My Mom's."

"Oh, okay. 'Cause your Dad's hair is pretty blond."

He nods. "Used to be, anyway. He's getting grayer."

"Do you want kids?" I blurt out. Yikes. Maybe it's a little premature to be having conversations like this, but apparently my subconscious doesn't care.

I know I'm blushing when he twists so he's looking up at me. He reaches up to touch my cheeks, one by one.

"Yeah, eventually. Do you?"

"Yeah." His smirk makes me smile, and roll my eyes. "Eventually."

"One out of four would have my hair," he says. "Remember Punnett squares?"

"I never said I was having kids with _you_," I say, biting my lip.

He tickles me in to submission.

* * *

The days gradually melt from spring to summer. Besides a very rare heat wave in mid June, the weather remains comfortable and we spend a lot of time outdoors.

Falling in love with Edward is an ongoing thing. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and the fact that he feels the same way about me seems crazy. But he does. It's like the world's best coincidence.

_You like me? I like you! Wait, you love me? Funny, I love you too._

The anniversary of Masen's death, midsummer, looms like a dark specter. Edward's family is convening in Seattle to commemorate, and to celebrate his life. I go back and forth in my mind, wondering what my role in this is: do I stay put and offer support from a distance? Would it be too weird and distracting for me to go back to Seattle with Edward for his family's gathering?

Or do I buck up and go with him? I can put my own feelings aside, but I don't want him to feel awkward, especially because things are great between us, and have been for a long time. It's hard to believe we've been together less than a year because we have so many memories to draw from. We've both changed and grown, as individuals but also as a couple. I finally understand what it means to part of a true, committed whole.

Everything else was just practice, I guess. Not that my prior relationships weren't important – because they were – but they were nothing like this.

Edward…Edward's everything.

So there's my answer.

"I'll go with you."

Edward pulls me in to a hug. "Thanks."

"You want me to come, right?"

I feel him nod, his stubble scratchy against my temple.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I ask. "I didn't know what to do…I've been deliberating for days."

"I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. You need to do what you want, not what you think I want."

That makes sense.

"We're on the same page, then," I assure him. "Do you think Tanya will go?"

"It's hard to say." He sighs, deep. "It's been a year."

"But… they were serious. And for awhile." Once this would have pained me to admit, but now it's just how it is. Or rather, how it was.

"Yeah. I doubt she's… over it, or anything, but I think she's moving on the best she can. Last I heard she'd gone back to school."

"Oh, she'd stopped?"

"For a semester."

I don't have to inquire how he knows these things. Edward told me that they'd grown up in a relatively small town outside of Seattle, where people tend to know each other. Tanya went to high school with Edward and Masen, and her parents know theirs. Even today it sounds like a small world, where it's easy to find out who's doing what.

Though I never knew her, I'm glad Tanya is moving on. I still don't know how I'd feel about seeing her, though, especially in this context. I wonder if my being with Edward would hurt her, somehow.

Thinking about it makes my brain hurt, frankly.

"You belong there." Edward says. This is why I suspect he's the One. It's like he reads my thoughts; he remembers things I told him a long time ago, things like feeling I didn't belong at the funeral. "You belong there with me."

I look up at his face, in to his eyes. "I know."

* * *

_just a chapter of 2 left of this..._

_xoxo_


	17. Fence

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry **

**prompt - fence**

* * *

The get together is being held at Edward's grandparent's home. Their house is in a suburban neighborhood so out of the way it almost feels rural. The backyard is huge, and at the edge of the property sits a large lake.

There are tons of people here, family and friends. We are here to celebrate a life, and to mourn its too-soon passing, but the mood is light. There are tables full of food and drink, and in the middle sits a small stand with pictures of Masen on it. Gazing at him as a child, I can finally fully forgive him. I had for the most part, but if I'm being completely honest with myself there were a few lingering feelings of hurt when I'd think about how it all went down. Those are gone now, though.

I'm left with a sense of peace, and gratitude. I am so grateful for my life and my love.

I keep close to Edward, and he keeps close to me, his fingers gently laced through mine. The weather is muggy and mercilessly humid, hot despite the overcast sky. I've heard that Seattle sees more rain than most US cities per year, and it's looking like today will be no exception.

I'm introduced to everyone as Edward's girl. It's simpler that way and anyway it's the truth. His family is welcoming and warm – just like he'd described. The rowdy kid cousins and drunken uncles and doting aunts are all here; it's like something out of a movie. In fact I'm so comfortable and relived, and so very glad I came to share this with Edward, that Tanya's sudden presence is shocking.

Before, I had only seen her in snatches – blonde hair, slight stature, shaky hands clutching damp tissues. But today I look her in the eye as she stares right back, and watch as her incredulity turns to anger. She's seen my picture and read my notes; she knows exactly who I am.

My stomach clamps down. Panicked, I squeeze the daylights out of Edward's hand, so hard he whips his head around, eyes wide. "What?"

"She's here… she's…" I trail off as he looks over to Tanya.

For a second I'm worried he'll drop my hand and go comfort her or something. And why shouldn't he? They were friends in high school, and maybe before.

He doesn't, though. He knows my concerns and thoughts, and he knew that if this very thing were to happen it would be important for us to stand together. No matter what.

Tanya is on her way over, the scowl on her face laced with hurt. At least, I think it's hurt: I don't know her well enough to tell. In a way, it's a relief – in a warped, weird way. I've been waiting for someone to be upset about my relationship with Edward because it's inevitable. This scenario makes sense, even though it's uncomfortable and I hate it.

"Hey, Tanya," Edward says, his wariness evident.

"Are you serious?" she answers, her bright blue eyes snapping between Edward and me. "Are you… how could you even bring her?" She glances down at our clasped hands. I'm holding on so tight I worry I'm hurting him. "How are you _with her_?"

Her hands are in fists.

"I'm with her because I love her," he says.

Tanya glances at me. "That's kind of sick."

I shake my head, not knowing what to say to that. "I'm sorry."

Even though I have nothing to be sorry for.

"You should be. I – "

"This isn't the place," Edward warns her.

A look around tells me that no one seems to notice our tense exchange, but I doubt that'll last. And anyway, he's right: this is neither the time nor the place.

Tanya's eyes fill with tears as she steps back, shaking her head. In this moment, I feel awful for her. Masen hurt and betrayed me, but I bet he really broke her heart. Whereas I healed and was able to fall in for-real love, she seems alone. And now Edward, someone she's known for years, is choosing me of all people. It's enough to screw with the sanest person's mind.

I want to connect with her, to let her know I understand and that if anything, we're on the "same side". Life isn't that cut and dry though and even though Edward has told me in the past that Tanya's a sweet girl, it would be naïve of me to think that we could ever be friends. Not after the way Masen played the both of us. Even if we were able to come to a place of mutual acceptance, that's all it would ever be.

And maybe just one year later isn't enough time.

Edward clears his throat. "Tanya."

"No," she whispers. She spins around and walks away.

My heart pounds. Adrenaline from the confrontation floods through my body, and I sink against Edward.

"Sorry," he says, pulling me away from the crowd, to where it's quiet. We walk to the fence that separates his family's land from the lake. He hoists himself up and then pulls me close, tucking me in to his arms.

"That…was both better and worse than I was expecting," I sigh.

His chin rests atop my head; I feel him nod. "Yeah."

"Do you want to go talk to her?"

"I've already talked to her, Bella. We spent a lot of time dealing with things and hashing them out last summer."

"Oh."

Behind us, a small creek feeding in to the lake gurgles, and overhead, the trees rustle and hush. The gathering is far enough that it's hard to really hear them. I watch them for awhile.

"It was bound to happen."

I look up at him. "What? Someone freaking out?"

"Yeah. But especially her freaking out."

I nod, because it's true. "I just… wish she could _see_ me. See what this actually is. I know how it looks…how she wants it to look but it isn't like that."

"Preaching to the choir," he chuckles, squeezing my shoulder.

Turning, I press myself between his knees, wanting to be closer. We've maintained an appropriate distance all day, joined by our hands but not indulging in any other signs of physical affection. I need him now, though, and judging by how he lets me in and then holds me tight, maybe he needs me too.

"But it's okay, you know?" I say. "I'm glad I came. I needed this for me almost as much as I needed to be here for you."

"I'm glad."

"Me too."

"You know what I'd like?" Edward asks.

"What?"

"To go swimming later on, after everyone's left."

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," I say, wishing I had thought to bring one. I hadn't thought it would be that sort of trip.

"We'll go tonight," he says. "You won't need one."

He's sad today, I know. But that's the way things are, the sweet mixed with the bitter, the sad with the joyous. If we can find little moments of happiness, midnight swims and holding hands even amongst the memories of tragedy, it'll be okay.

* * *

just one more chapter of Sultry after this. but i have an idea for a bran new storyline i'm excited about ;)

love you guys! your thoughtful, insightful, honest reviews truly mean the world to me. thanks for sharing your thoughts!

xoxo


	18. Craft

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Sultry (last chapter)**

**prompt - craft**

* * *

Skinny dipping in the dark feels like something I'd have done drunk and as a teenager. It's so much better like this, though.

Edward's mouth is hot against my neck. I cling to him, horny and a little nervous because we can't see what's in the water around us. He moves against me, his hands grasping tighter and tighter.

"I want you inside me," I whisper, holding his face to mine.

"Not here… too cold…" he mumbles, slipping his tongue in to my mouth. We make out for awhile.

Then something splashes further out in the lake and we scramble out, panicked and snickering.

"You used to do this as a kid?" I ask, only mildly hysterical.

Edward tosses me a towel. "Yeah. It was different back then, somehow."

"Childhood's crazy, man."

We dry off and once we're dressed, walk back to his grandparent's house.

* * *

It's been a long day.

Not bad, but emotional. I've seen Edward run through the gamut of emotions over the past year, from deceptively calm to blubbering drunk to angry and distant. Some days it was like it was all he could do to get out of bed, and other days he craved so much physical release that by the time we'd fall asleep I was sore.

Nothing prepares me for the quiet stoicism of today, though. I don't know what I expected at Masen's memorial – tears, maybe?

Maybe he hasn't any left.

Maybe he feels like he needs to be strong for his parents, and the rest of the family.

Or maybe after a year he's able to deal a little better. I don't know; I've never lost anyone I was that close to.

Edward's pretty in touch with himself, but I want to make sure he's not turning his feelings off or ignoring them. I tell him as much.

He shakes his head. "No. I just… try to process it as it comes to mind. I can't let it overwhelm me. You saw Tanya… she's still having such a hard time coping and I can't be that person. It'll eat me alive." He pauses, sitting next to me on the bed. "It doesn't make me a bad..."

"No, it definitely does not," I agree, pushing his hair from his face. It's shaggy, still wet from the lake.

"Are you glad you came?" he asks. He's asked before.

"Yes. It's been good for me. I hope…"

Pulling me up, he steps closer and takes my shirt off. "What?"

"I hope I can come back."

He freezes. "You know I'm in this for good, right? I don't do this with just anyone. You're…"

Now I'm the one to prod. "What? I'm what?"

"You're it for me."

My eyes feel warm, my chest feels warm, and my cheeks feel warm. He makes me this way. I wipe at my face and look down. I need a second.

"Hey." He wraps his arms around me. "I _want_ you to come back with me some time. My grandma already loves you; she'd love nothing better than to have us here."

There is a point in every relationship when things go from the joyful day to day to the promise of a future together. I'd sensed the shift, but hadn't felt ready to verbalize it because I didn't want to rush things. I enjoy what Edward and I have. But to hear him break it down like that, to know now beyond the shadow of a doubt that he wants to craft a life together with me?

"I am so grateful you were brought to me," I say, taking his shirt off. I want the feeling of skin to skin, shared body heat.

"I'm grateful for you, too," he says. Easy going and slow, the rest of our clothes come off, interrupted by kisses and caresses. We make love with a sweet frenzy; it's too hard to go slow when there's so much passion in our hearts.

Long after he has fallen under, I lay and stare sleepily at the shadows the trees outside cast on the wall. Edward's hair tickles my breast as I hold him close, and his even breathing starts to lull me to sleep, as well.

I'm glad he fought for this, and that we chanced it. It could have easily gone bad, but it didn't, and I cannot regret how we got here. I would have been all right alone. But it's so much better with him.

* * *

_thank you so much for reading this, and for trusting me to tell the story the way i thought best. you guys are incredibly insightful and kind in leaving me your thoughts. i appreciate it like, whoah! also, thanks for understanding that i can't really respond these days. i feel like a lame-o, sucking up reviews and hardly ever answering, but know i am deeply appreciative that you take the time. one day i'll have the time again too!_

_tomorrow starts a new WitFit storyline..._


	19. Vacuum

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Vacuum (this one i might rename. because really.)**

**prompt - vacuum**

* * *

Someone's shout rises above the others.

This is how I know. I focus in a trio coming out of the water, two guys helping a girl. They see me on my perch and yell that there is one more they couldn't find.

Stupid. Every summer at least one idiot gets hurt jumping off the rock. If jumpers don't wait till the right moment, the tide can slam them against the rock. We warn them, but some days we're just too busy.

I hit the ground running – literally – flying across the sand so fast it doesn't have time to scorch my feet.

My surroundings disappear: happy beach sounds, the splash of color in my peripheral – sucked in to a vacuum the second I'm in the water. My lifebuoy bobs behind me, slowing me down just a little, but I have to bring it.

Breathing deeply, I cut through the water, long, sure strokes taking me to the edge of the rock.

_Where are you, where are you…_

The wind picks up and the water turns choppy, darkened by incoming clouds. Typical for this town; I can't remember the last time the sun stayed out all day long. I hold my breath and go under, used to the way the salt burns my eyes.

_There._

I recognize the red, yellow and green swim trunks and for a moment I almost panic.

Almost.

Rain starts falling, compromising conditions and making visibility worse. Jacob's post is at the other end of the beach but he'll appear if I don't make it out quickly. He always does. Normally I resent this – I'm just a good a lifeguard as he is – but I wouldn't mind today. I'm scared; my heart's pounding so hard.

I grab you, ignoring the gash across your forehead and the fact that you're unconscious. It's too rough to tell if whether or not you're breathing, but I don't think you are. Either way I have to get you to shore _now._

It feels like forever, but finally I bring you in. A small crowd has formed right where the water breaks, and several people help me drag you on to dry sand. I fall to my knees, and in the distance, Jacob sprints toward us.

"Rose! Call – "

"On it," she says, already on the phone. Her face is pale, and for once she's not smirking.

It's raining hard now. You're not breathing; your lips are blue. Ignoring the pocket mask Rose has brought, I start CPR, alternating between mouth to mouth and chest compressions.

No one speaks. I doubt I'd hear them anyway.

I'm probably rougher than I need to be but I'd rather beat you back to life than let you go peacefully. Sirens scream closer, and right when I think it's all too late you violently convulse and puke sea water.

Everyone starts cheering and chattering at once. I'm shaking so hard I sink back on the sand, watching as your color starts to return.

I might hate your guts, but I never wanted you to die.

* * *

_new story. and yes, i'll write it all the way through instead of balancing multiple plots. personally _I like different stories and a surprise each day _but most of you complain it's too confusing. but that's cool. :D i don't mind doing it this way..._


	20. Delicious

_ All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Vacuum (i think i'll just rename it Malicious)**

**prompt - delicious, malicious, suspicious**

* * *

_Summer before junior year_

"God, he looks delicious tonight," Jessica breathed, elbowing me.

I glanced at her, knowing by that particular gawk she was talking about Edward Cullen. She had the hots for about six different guys, but most especially him. He was doing flips off the diving board, totally showing off for his audience.

He always had an audience.

We both did, actually, only difference being he lived for the attention whereas I merely tolerated it. It burned him up that he had to share the spotlight with me. I found this highly amusing.

Okay, I also found it really satisfying.

I could swim before I could walk, so swim team was a natural for me. You could say the same about Edward, and we'd grown up attending the same meets and competitions. Sometimes I beat him, other times he beat me, but either way we shared the number one position on the team and always had. By high school he was captain, because I really didn't care as long as I got to compete. I had other things going, like debate team and lifeguarding.

Jessica elbowed me again. She seriously needed to stop that."I want another one."

Her red Solo cup was empty, as was mine. She was a couple of drinks ahead of me, though. I nodded toward the Crowley's kitchen, barely visible through the sea of scantily clad bodies clogging up the patio. "Let's go refill, then."

"_Chug it! Chug it_!" It had been going on all night. This time I recognized the ass stuck up in the air: those were Rose's bright red short-shorts.

"Oh, man, she's so brave!" squealed Jessica, shoving through the crowd to watch Rose finish her keg stand.

Shaking my head, I made my way to the makeshift bar and made myself another vodka cran. Jessica liked them, so I made her one too. She appeared next to me with Rose, who wasn't even red-faced – but then again, she could hold her alcohol better than most.

"I know you don't want this," I saidm motioning toward the vodka.

"Beer before liquor, never sicker," she recited. "I'm good."

"Okay." I handed Jess her drink. "Where's Al?"

Rose shrugged. "Off humping Jasper somewhere."

"Nice." Alice and Jasper were always off humping somewhere.

A couple of hours later, I was drunk and playing volleyball in the pool. Not too drunk, but enough that everything was hilarious and I was feeling a little horny. Even so, when Mike tried to untie my bikini bottoms I knew it was time for a break.

I kneed him in the balls and stumbled out of the crowded pool. Alice was still MIA, and Rose had long since dragged Jessica in to a rowdy game of beer pong in the living room. I needed to pee.

Not wanting to drip all over Tyler's parent's house, I grabbed a towel off of someone's deck chair and wrapped myself in it. The first floor bathrooms were all occupied, so I sneaked up stairs, praying that at least one was empty.

It was. The parent's. _My_ parents had raised me better than to go cavorting through people's private quarters when they weren't home, but I seriously needed to pee. There was a dim light on, just enough for me to see where I was going. I locked the door behind me, dropped my towel, and sighed in relief as my butt hit the toilet seat.

"Hey, Bella."

Edward was sitting on the counter across from me, barely illuminated. I shrieked, stopping mid-stream and covering myself with a nearby hand towel. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Same thing you're doing."

I stared blankly at him, because if I was the one peeing, then he certainly wasn't.

"Well, I already went. Now i'm just chillin."

Was that pot I smelled? Coach would have his ass. "Get out."

"Chill." He outed his joint in the sink.

"No, seriously, get out Edward. I can't believe you let me drop trou and didn't say anything."

"Yeah, right, you came in here so fast I thought you were gonna hurl." He jumped down, wiping his hands on his butt. "I didn't have time to say anything."

"We could've made time," I snapped. "Get –"

"I'll close my eyes."

He did, even turning away.

"Cover your ears," I said. Later I'd wonder why I'd played along in the first place, letting him stay when i should've insisted he leave but then again...inebriation doesn't exactly make for good choices.

He covered his ears.

I squinted in the dimness, suspicious that he was somehow watching me, but it didn't seem that he was. So I finished, wiped, and yanked my bottoms up in about two seconds flat before joining him at the sink. Unable to meet his eye in the mirror, I hurriedly washed my hands.

"I must say… I never imagined you be that…bare down there."

I went to smack his stupid - albeit handsome - face but it was a sloppy move, because I was drunk. He grabbed my hand, grinning. "What?"

"If you have to ask, you're way more gone than I thought." I pulled my hand away. "And anyway I have to keep it trim. I can't be sporting a bush at practice."

"Why're you so mad?" he asked, seeming confused. "I've known you forever."

"Doesn't mean I feel comfortable showing you my twat."

He snorted, and then choked, and then starting laughing so hard that he doubled over. It wasn't that funny, but he was stoned, so whatever. After a second I laughed, too. "Shut up."

He calmed down eventually. His expression went from mirthful to lusty so fast it I almost missed it. And believe me; I'd seen him work this on plenty of girls. "I like this." He pulled at the string holding one side of my bottoms. Thankfully, I'd double knotted it after Mike's little stunt in the pool.

Not like it mattered. Edward'd already seen the goods.

Rolling my eyes, I turned to leave. Whatever friendly moment we'd just shared was cancelled out. "You see me in a swim suit every day, idiot."

But he reached out, his fingertips warm on my hip. "Not like this. Not in a bikini."

I shrugged, but I was beginning to feel weird. And hot. In both senses of the word. I wasn't attracted to Edward. I mean, I found him attrac_tive_, but I had better things to do than chase down his conceited ass. Our swimming rivalry gave new meaning to the concept of familiarity breeding contempt.

At that second, though, I was considering it. Not…sex. Just…

His look turned predatory, all _the lion stalks the gazelle._

One second I was beside him, the next he had me up against the counter. "Don't act like you've never thought about it," he said.

I frowned. "I haven't, actually."

We kissed. And it was good. Within seconds we were pressed together, and I could feel how hard he was.

I moved my face away, letting him suck on my neck instead. "I'm not sleeping with you, horndog."

"That's okay," he whispered. He pulled me over to the shower and turned on the water.

"What're you doing?"

"Rinsing off," he said, easing me inside.

It was steamy and sexy in there. The boy could kiss, I'd give him that. He moved my top aside and pinched my nipple while he reached down between my legs with his other hand. The heat turned me on, made me feel even more intoxicated. He made me come with his fingers and I did the same for him.

He was even kind of sweet afterward, getting out first so he could bring me my towel. I was under no illusion that our fooling around was anything but a onetime thing, but I did wonder how it would affect swim practice. I kind of hoped he wouldn't be a jerk about it, talking crap to his friends. School was just about to start and the last thing I needed were malicious rumors starring Edward, me and Tyler Crowley's parent's shower.

"We're cool, right?" he asked as we walked down the hall.

Looked like we were on the same page. "Yup."

I meant it, too.

We went our own separate ways, and I felt fine. Amused, even.

So imagine my surprise when I overheard Mike and some kid I didn't even know, talking about it less than an hour later.


	21. Collar

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious (previously "vacuum")**

**prompt - collar**

* * *

The wind has picked up. Adrenaline is still surging through my veins and it makes me shake like a junkie coming down off a high.

The paramedics arrive and take over; one of them pats my shoulder before helping his partner get you on to a stretcher. Your hand slips from mine. I didn't even realize I'd been holding it.

The salt water had washed your blood away, but now that we've been on shore a while there's red running down your face. I hate blood. How hard did you hit that rock?

The rain is pelting down now. I'm vaguely surprised when the crowd remains, watching you receive more medical care before being carried away. Usually people only stick around for the exciting parts… but people know us, I guess.

Jacob pulls me to my feet and hugs me. I'm covered in sand, but he doesn't care.

"You okay?"

I nod.

He gets a towel from somewhere and wraps me in it. "You did good. That was amazing, B."

I nod again, unable to rip my eyes away from you. Your eyes are sort of rolling around but then they focus on me. We stare at each other for a long time.

It's hard to tell, because you're wet, but it almost looks like you're crying.

* * *

Every time I close my eyes, I see myself losing you.

Or never finding you at all.

There are a million ways today could have turned out, and it's hard not to dwell on the worst case scenarios.

Down the beach, a bonfire roars. The mood tonight is more somber than usual; I have a feeling everyone's still caught up on today and how you almost died. For the most part they're leaving me alone, sensing I need some space.

I'm not feeling very celebratory. I should be, but I'm not; instead I'm caught in this weird freak out of what-if. If anything, I was reminded today of how vast things are: the ocean, life. Makes other things, like high school drama, seem petty and small.

Alice and Rose appear out of the darkness and sit on either side of me, bringing body heat and chocolate.

"Want a piece?" asks Alice, folding a piece of Snickers in to my hand.

I eat it, nudging her with my thigh in gratitude. "Thanks, babe."

For awhile we sit in silence, listening to the soft laughter of our friends and the waves breaking off shore. It's a familiar sound, and it grieves me tonight. I've always loved the water, but I'm a little wary of it right now. I shiver and tug at my jacket's collar, trying to shield myself from the wind.

"You okay?" Alice asks eventually.

I shrug, glancing at Rose. In the moonlight, her face is pale, and it reminds me of how she looked today at the beach. Her eyes meet mine and she nods slightly; she was there, she understands.

"We train for this, so it's inevitable," I say. "And it's not like I haven't done rescues before…"

"But not like this," Rose whispers. She rubs my back. Tough as nails Rose, humbled by a near-drowning.

I shake my head. "No. Not like this."

"They released him a couple of hours ago," Alice says. "Into his father's care. He's okay, you know. Because of you."

She takes my hand. It's kind of sticky because of the chocolate, but it's nice.

You _are_ okay, on the outside anyway. I hear you got stitches and a nice supply of pain meds. I tell myself I won't visit you, because it would feel awkward and forced.

But we both know I will.

* * *

_hee! i love hearing the commentary on edward's maybe-douchebaggery. for reals. _

_this will continue to alternate between the past and present and things will continue to be revealed; i think it's pretty clear but just ask me if you have questions. everyone seems like they're okay with it so far, though._

_thank you, thank you for the reviews. feels like we're all in this together! *cue kumbaya*_


	22. Bookshelf

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - bookshelf**

* * *

Rose was watching me rather shrewdly in the mirror. Her mouth was covered in toothpaste foam, making her look sort of rabid.

"What?" I grumbled, rinsing my mouth of her insanely cinnamon toothpaste. Honestly, it was just unpleasant.

"I didn't realize you liked Edward."

"I don't."

"So why'd you let him down your pants?"

"Down my bikini bottoms, actually."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

I shrugged. "I don't know. I just felt like it."

"That's not you, just saying."

She left the bathroom and I trailed after her, shutting the door. "I… I don't know. I was -"

"Drunk and horny. Yeah, you said that."

Scowling, I grabbed a rubber band off her bookshelf and swept my hair in to a ponytail. "Why are you bitching me out about this? It's not like you've never hooked up with someone…and really, we didn't actually hook up. We just fooled around."

"See how you keep trying to rationalize it? That's why I'm worried. I bet this bothers you more than you're letting on. And yeah, I've hooked up before but you're not like me." Rose ran a brush through her hair. Due to endless hours at the beach, it was always its brightest blonde by the end of summer. "Anyway, Edward? Ew. He's such an ass."

"I know that now."

"You've _known_ that, Bella. Come on."

"Well, I didn't think he'd kiss and tell. Otherwise I never would have gone with it." I lay back on her floor, sighing. "Ugh. Thank God I didn't sleep with him."

"Seriously."

"So, are we still going to the mall or not? I need to do back to school shopping," I said.

"Do that with your mom, dude," Rose said, snorting. "That's what I always do. It's too nice out to be cooped up in the mall, anyway."

"My mom isn't coming down until next week and by that point school will have started," I pointed out.

I lived with my dad, but my mom visited pretty often. We hadn't always been so spread out. As a kid, I lived with her and my stepdad, Phil, but it was easy to see my father because he only lived about ten minutes away. When my stepdad's job relocated him, though, I chose to stay in town with my father. I think it broke my mom's heart a little, but I'd always been close to my dad and the thought of leaving him and everything I'd ever known was just too much.

Funnily enough, my mother and Phil were back in Florida, way up north by the Panhandle. Now she came down to visit every couple of weeks.

"So..."

I wasn't big in to shopping, but Rose really seemed to loathe it. "Forget it. I'll ask Alice to come with me."

"Good. Now let's go to the beach. It's a perfect day to get a tan."

"It's so nice to be here and _not _be guarding," I moaned, trailing my fingers through the hot, powdery sand at my side.

"No kidding," said Rose. She'd been a lifeguard almost as long as I had. In fact, that was how we'd gotten so close. "Aren't you glad we're here and not in a store somewhere?"

"Yep."

Ice cold water sprayed across my sunbaked skin. I shot up, shading my eyes. "What the hell?"

Mike Newton loomed over us, a water bottle in his hand. "Couldn't resist," he chuckled.

Rose shook her head in disgust. "Ugh. Disappear."

Mike ignored her, nodding at me. "So. You and Cullen, huh?"

Regret pierced through me. I looked away as nonchalantly as possible."Nope."

"Oh, yeah. Don't front."

Standing abruptly, I brushed past him on my way down to the water. Never one to take a hint, he followed. "How come he gets a piece and I don't?"

"Such poetry. With lines like that you must have chicks banging down your door." I regarded him coolly through my sunglasses. "And he did not – " I made air quotes "get a piece."

"Not what I heard."

And so, for the second time in one weekend, I kneed him in the balls and walked away.

The fates were totally smiling down at me, but not really, because who but Edward was in the water. He saw me the second I saw him, and he actually started to smile.

"Don't smile at me, asshole."

He splashed playfully at me. "Not what you were saying last night."

This time, when I slapped him, I made contact. No more smiles: he grabbed my hand, too late this time. "Don't ever, _ever_ hit me again." I'd never heard him so angry. Good.

He had a red mark on his cheek now. Okay, maybe I felt a little bad. He couldn't exactly hit back and I knew it. But still.

"Then don't talk crap, Edward. You made me look like a slut. People are talking about what happened at Crowley's last night."

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. And maybe it wasn't – not to him. But to me?

"How could you do that?" I asked, yanking my hand back.

"I didn't do anything. Come to the source next time, instead of listening to rumors."

I whipped my shades off and stared at him, unable to believe such nonsense. "I heard Mike and some moron talking about it, like, five seconds after it happened! What, were they listening at the door?"

Something flickered across his face.

"What?" I asked.

"Like you don't tell your friends stuff like that," he said instead. He squinted over to Rose, who was now sitting up and watching our exchange with interest. All she needed was popcorn to go along with the show. "Tell me you didn't give her details."

"Yeah, I did. Mainly because she heard it from frigging Angela Webber on the phone this morning! Angela, who heard from Ben." I pushed down my violent tendencies, knowing that smacking him was wrong, even if he deserved it. "Didn't know you were besties with Ben. Or Mike."

"Mike saw us coming down the stairs," he admitted. "Whatever."

"And?"

"And he wanted to know what was up." He shifted, and I knew that something else had happened.

"Edward."

"It's not like I let him smell my fingers."

"You're disgusting."

"I'm just saying. He asked if I nailed you, I told him to mind his business."

"Why didn't you tell him no?"

He shrugged.

"Obviously he thinks we did it! Everyone does!"

"Why are you so pissed off? You said you were cool with things. Do you… like me?"

Edward Cullen was one dense mofro. "I was cool with what we did. Not with the whole world knowing." I sighed, turning to go. "And no, I don't like you. Get over yourself."

"Well, I'm sorry. I told him to keep his mouth shut, but…"

"So you did tell him."

"Not really… okay, I did. But I told him to keep it to himself."

I wasn't ready for the icky surprise that flooded me then. He'd… lied to me. "So you're a manwhore, gossip and a liar. Charming."

"Whatever, Bella."

Yeah. Whatever.

* * *

_i had a boy kiss and tell once. by the time i heard about it, a couple kisses and a over the top boob grope had turned in to sex on my roof._

_um..._


	23. Bleach

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - bleach**

* * *

This is a relatively small town, so I know where you live.

Everyone knows where everyone else lives, and besides, I've been to parties at your house. I park on the curb, not wanting to crowd your driveway. There are already a couple of cars there.

Your mom answers the door. I remember how right after my mom left, yours always brought extra snacks and sandwiches to practice for me. We weren't even close, you and I, but she still looked out for me. It's been awhile since I've spoken to her other than the occasional smile-and-wave at swim meets.

Esme takes this deep, strangled breath and pulls me in a hug. I hug her back, knowing she needs it. I think I might need it, too. After a while she sniffles, letting go. Her eyes are watery and red.

Call me stupid, but it didn't occur to me till now that I saved her son. The ripple effect is intensified. It wasn't just you and me on the beach that day; it was all of us. I hope she doesn't thank me. That's not why I came. Taking advantage of the fact that she's trying to pull herself together, I motion toward the stairs.

"Edward's upstairs, right?"

"Yeah, honey, go on up. He'll be home for the next couple of days."

I jog up the steps and go to the second door on the left. It's open, and you're in sweatpants and a bleach stained t-shirt, playing Xbox. I pause just inside, leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey."

You do a double take and pause your game. The stitches on your forehead look better than I was expecting.

"Hey…come in."

"I'm just… I was just passing by. Wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm okay." You shrug and look down, dropping the controller on to your bed. "Thanks."

The tension between us sucks. I take a step backward.

"How… did you know?" you ask suddenly, and I know you're talking about the beach.

"They said there was one more they couldn't find. I'd seen people jumping off the rock earlier… I didn't know it was you though." I swallow, remembering. "Till I saw your shorts."

You nod. I don't think I have ever seen look this serious. It's like your face has forgotten how to smile.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm captain of the swim team and I almost drowned, Bella. What do you think?"

"Everybody knows it was the rock."

"Yeah."

"That's why I don't jump off that thing," I say.

It's quiet. I glance at the TV screen, where someone is frozen in the middle of combat.

"What is this?"

"Black Ops."

"Oh."

"Bella."

I look at you, really look. I see you like you were that day, and it makes my chest feel tight, like it's squeezing my heart.

"I can't even like, wrap my mind around it. I'm okay because of you."

Biting my lip, I nod. "Well. That's what I was there for."

I don't mean to sound impersonal, I just don't know what to say to that. You're right: it's hard to wrap my brain around. It's too big. Too what-if. It's almost like I didn't save you; fate did.

"Don't," you say, in the quietest voice.

"I would have done it for anybody."

You scrub your hands over your face, and I see the second you rub the stitches by mistake because you wince, sharply. Without thought I go to you and touch them, barely running the pads of my fingers across the roughness. You reach out and grasp my shirt, tugging me closer. I freeze, not sure what to make of this.

"You're so much better than I am," you say.

"Edward, geez. Shut up. You're a great swim – "

"A much better person," you interrupt.

I drop my hand. I think of the past year, how we both did things we should be ashamed of. How neither of us took the higher road when we had so many opportunities to.

"I'm not that great," I whisper, the truthfulness of it punching me hard in the gut.

You let go of my shirt and lay back. "I don't want to get back in the water just yet."

"That's okay. You have a week before school starts."

"Not even then."

I roll my eyes. "Too bad. You have to."

You shake your head, and for the first time ever I see fear on your face. "I'm not ready."

I want to tell you to man up, tough it out. But something stops me. Part of me understands your fear, but the other part of me acknowledges that the best way to deal with it is to do the thing. Fear is worse than whatever we're fearful of.

"You'll be okay," I say. "I'll be there."

* * *

_to answer a couple of questions: this is set in a small to medium sized Florida beachtown, kind of like the one i live in. also, the present takes place exactly one year after the past. so they're about to start senior year._

_so, have you ever saved someone's life?_


	24. Rocket

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - rocket**

* * *

Thank God we no longer had to take the school bus or get rides from our parents. It wasn't so bad for Alice and Rose, but for me? Yeah – I wouldn't miss having a police car drop me off to school each day. My father had been nice enough to let me use his old red pick up, and the girls had been all too happy to ride with.

I walked through the double doors and went straight to the office for my new locker assignment. Jessica, who'd been in the Keys for the past week with her parents, was already there squinting at a piece of paper.

"Hey, Jess," I said, touching her back affectionately.

"Oh. Hi, Bella." Even if I hadn't caught how distant she sounded, the way she wouldn't look at me clued me in.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Nothing." She shrugged. "Gotta go."

I watched her walk away. That was weird. I'd known Jessica since seventh grade, when we'd all started going to the same middle school together. She'd never been as tight to me as Alice or Rose, but I considered her a close friend. She was definitely acting off.

"She heard about you and Edward," whispered Alice, who was suddenly right beside me.

"What?"

She nodded grimly. "Yeah."

Rolling my eyes, I stepped forward to receive my locker assignment and homeroom from the secretary, Mrs. Cope. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope."

"How'd she find out?" I asked, watching distractedly as Alice got her paperwork. "More importantly, _what_ did she find out?"

"That you guys had sex."

I sighed. "A, that's a bunch of bull and B, I didn't know she liked him so much that she'd get pissy."

"I know. And I even told her you guys didn't do it, but she seems to have it in her head you did."

"Do you know what homeroom she's in?"

Alice shook her head, glancing down at her print out. "No, but I'm in Cooper."

"Sweet, me too. Let's go."

* * *

At lunch, I ended up at the same table as Edward. We were on opposite ends, thank God, but having to see his stupid face at all was enough to make me lose my appetite.

"Ignore him," Rose said, stomping on my foot underneath the table. "No one even cares. No one but you."

She was probably right. While I had every right to be mad at Dickward, it was likely that people had forgotten. Crowley's party had been a little over a week before. What we'd done or not done was old news by now.

In fact, everything was completely fine until laughter broke out at the other end of the table, so loud and rowdy and raucous that we had to look. Edward, Emmett, Mike and Tyler were yucking it up like the jerks they were. This was normal behavior, except that Mike kept glancing over at me while Edward kept his back turned.

At that second I looked up and my eyes met with Jessica's, who was sitting a table over. She made a face and looked away. My heart sank. The thing that sucked was that instead of the righteous anger I'd been living off for the past seven days, I felt humiliated. I kind of wanted to leave, but I hadn't finished eating and besides where would I go? I couldn't just admit defeat like that.

"They're totally talking about it," I whispered to Rose.

"Nah, they're talking about this girl Maria. Mike wants her, I guess."

"He wants everybody. He's gross." Too bad for Maria, but I was so glad they weren't talking about me. Maybe I was paranoid.

Eventually lunch was over, so we stood to dump our trays.

Mike tugged at my ponytail as I passed by. "Right, Bella?"

Ignoring him, I kept on walking.

"Come on, don't be like that. I hear you have excellent insight into Crowley's shower."

I'd never felt my heartbeat sky rocket the way it did right then. I just knew my face was red, too. Biting my lip, I left the cafeteria, barely stopping to leave my tray.

It shouldn't have even been that big a deal: I knew these kids and they knew me. There were hook ups all the time; it wasn't exactly a fresh phenomenon. But somehow, hearing douche bags like Mike Newton talk about it like that make me feel dirty and cheap. The fact that Edward sat there, saying nothing, made it worse.

By the time I made it to biology next period, I caught Jessica talking to Lauren about it. That pissed me off, because when there had been rumors last year about her blowing Eric in the music room, I'd stood up for her.

Those rumors had been true, by the way.

"Really, Jess?" I said, standing between her table and Lauren's.

She had the decency to look embarrassed, her cheeks reddening like twin apples.

"Look." I leaned close to her, keeping my voice super low so that no one else would hear. "I didn't know you liked him like that. Otherwise I never would've kissed him. Seriously. But we didn't… do it. I swear."

She glared back. "You did know I liked him, Bella."

Ugh. How to say this without sounding judgmental? "You like a lot of guys, Jess. I didn't think he was any different. I'm sorry." She began to look away, so I grabbed her arm. "I mean it."

After a moment she shrugged, and nodded.

I walked to the last available table in the room and sank in to a chair. Maybe she was still a little pissy, but I hoped Jessica would come around. We'd been friends way too long to let something so dumb get in the way. Although, I did feel a little guilty. Normally we were pretty clear about not messing with each other's crushes. I'd honestly underestimated her feelings for Edward.

Such a mess. If I could have rewound back to Saturday night, I would've done things so differently.

Someone slipped in to the chair beside me. I glanced up and froze.

Edward smirked back. "Nowhere else to sit," he said.

I looked around the room, realizing he was right.

"Well, that sucks."

"Yeah, it does," he agreed.

Scowling, I turned away from him. Now the thought of touching him made me sick. What had I been thinking? Oh, that's right: I hadn't been.

* * *

_the life saving stories you guys shared with me after last chapter...blew my mind. seriously. it's amazing how we all have a story, you know? the things that happen to us, the things we know about and live through and experience - it's enough for a thousand books. anyway. thanks for opening up like that._


	25. Bake

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt- bake**

* * *

The parking lot's full by the time I arrive on the first day of school, but my spot beneath the tree is available. I pull in quickly, grateful my truck won't be left to bake in the sweltering September sun all day.

It's weird to think this is our last year. So much has happened since we crept in as naïve little freshman. Honestly, we're probably still a little naïve; every year I realize how little I knew the year before. It occurs to me, as I join my peers, that we still know almost nothing.

Alice and Jessica find me in the crowd, and together we walk to the office for our schedules. It's the last time we'll have to do this. Nostalgia unexpectedly rushes through me.

"I really hope I have gym last period this time," I say, tightening my ponytail while we stand in line. "I hate being sweaty in class."

"Seniors usually get first dibs on that," Jess says, shrugging. "Hey, did you bring that book?"

Shuffling forward, I search my bag for the novel I'd told her she could borrow. The person in front of me leaves suddenly, and I walk in to someone tall, someone who I can always recognize in a crowd. Years of swimming together means I probably know your body better than most of the girls you've dated.

Your stitches look even better. I wonder if you'll have to get them removed, or if they're absorbable.

"Hey."

I nod. "Hey."

Alice pushes me forward in line. I get my paperwork from Mrs. Cope, who already looks frazzled, and turn to leave. We nearly collide again, and I find myself surprised you're hanging around.

Jess grabs the book in my hand, and I don't miss her and Alice's overly raised eyebrows as they leave. Any attempt I make to go with them is thwarted when you start talking.

"Whose room are you in?"

"Kushner. You?"

"Kushner." You give me a real smile, and not the sarcastic smirk I've become so accustomed to.

I lower my eyes. "Cool. Are you… coming to practice later?"

You run your hand through your hair. Usually you get it buzzed right before school starts so that it doesn't get in your way in the water. "I don't know."

Exhaling heavily, I look up just in time to see several people staring at us as we walk down the hall. Your near death experience, and my part in preventing it, has become practically legendary. More than once people stop you, their eyes huge and their voices awed, like you're a ghost or a god.

I wait until the latest fan has left and then I turn to you. "You need to be there after school. This is… ridiculous."

Your eyes turn cloudy. "You don't know what it's like."

"No, I don't. But this doesn't get to define you."

Someone yells your name from across the hall and I slip in to homeroom.

* * *

Adjusting the bottom of my suit, I leave the locker room and scan the pool area. You're not here.

Coach begins talking; giving us the usual beginning of the season spiel, but it's hard to concentrate.

You're right: I don't know what it's like to be afraid of the water, and I hope I never know. It's easy as breathing for me, and it always has been for you, too. With all of the mutual animosity we've shared, and how it escalated over the years, this is the one thing we share, the one thing we relate to.

But I'm not going to chase you.

If you want to be an ass and throw your talent away because you're scared, I'm not going to be the one to save you. _Again._

Then the door opens and you walk in, out of place in jeans and a t-shirt. Our eyes meet for a second. You still have that number one swagger in your step, but it's hollow and we both know it.

It doesn't matter, though. You're here.

It's subtle, but Coach Clapp is relieved. He hardly falters in his speech, but he's smiling now.

"Welcome back, Cullen. Suit up."


	26. Entwine

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompts - entwine, refine, divine**

* * *

I started drinking coffee in ninth grade. Before that I found it disgusting, but then one day I had a cup of my father's before practice. The buzz it gave me was fantastic, and that was that. I've loved it ever since.

It took a while, but I got Alice and Rose in to it and soon we were chilling at Starbucks whenever we hit up the mall. They preferred the sugary, icy drinks, but I liked my coffee strong and hot.

"Like your men," Alice liked to tease.

"Mm. Damn," moaned Rose, eyeing some guy at the other end of the food court. "He's got a divine ass."

"His pants are so baggy you can hardly _see_ his ass," I said, squinting.

If Jessica was perpetually lusting after half the male student body, then Rose wasn't too far behind. The only difference being she actually had good taste, and tended to fish in foreign waters. As in, not at our school.

I'd do well to refine my own taste and follow in her footsteps. The boys at our school had completely turned me off now, from the ones who thought I was a slut and looked down on me to the ones who thought I was a slut and liked me for it.

"Yeah, but look how he walks," argued Rose. "You can just tell."

Sighing, I left her alone and looked around, wishing Alice would hurry up and get there. We'd been at the mall for a while, and while I usually liked wandering around, I had an extra swim practice in a couple of hours that I couldn't be late for.

"You want me to call her?" asked Rose, reaching for her phone.

"Yeah. Ask if she just wants to meet us outside."

She nodded and started dialing while I collected our empty cups. Halfway to the trashcan I faltered, catching sight of Jessica and Angela with Edward and Ben. They were goofing off over by the smoothie stand. I rolled my eyes. It hadn't exactly taken Jess long to get over Edward's participation in our so called shower sex scandal, judging by how she was hanging on his sleeve.

But that's how it always went down: girls got blamed while boys got praised.

I returned to our table and grabbed my purse. "What did she say?"

"She ran in to Jasper…"

"And he's going to give her a ride home," I said. "As well as a ride _at_ home."

Rose snickered. "Yeah."

* * *

Few things cleared my head like doing laps.

I got to practice early and started with freestyle, finding solace in the cool water. My muscles were burning by the time I pulled myself out of the water, but as always – it was worth it. There was a reason I was one of the best on the team, and it wasn't just talent or even dedication. I was made to do this, and I loved it.

A splash at the other end of the pool let me know I was no longer alone. I snapped my cap off and walked over to my bag, pulling a bottle of water out. I watched the blurry shape of another swimmer break the surface and start cutting through the water rapidly.

Edward. No one swam as fast as he did. No one but me, anyway. He was better at butterfly, though.

I seriously considered hiding out in the locker room until Coach and the rest of the team arrived, but decided against it. This was my territory too, and I wouldn't be chased away.

"Hey, you," Edward said, popping up in the shallow end.

"Hi."

"Still mad?"

I sat and wrapped my arms around myself.

He hoisted himself out of the pool and grabbed a towel. "Look… I'm sorry it's gotten so out of hand."

Granted, I was surprised that he was apologizing, but it was too little too late. "Whatever."

"Mike won't shut up about it."

"Because you haven't really told him to, Edward. You know he practically worships you. Don't put this on him."

Edward shook his head. "Dude. I can't control other people's actions."

"No, but you can control your own and the second someone asked you about what we did you should've kept your damn mouth shut," I said, feeling the anger and embarrassment of the past week welling up. The rumors had died down a lot, but there were still snide comments and funny looks here and there. Enough to remind me. "All this crap makes you look like king of the school, but it makes me look easy."

Edward started to say something, but right then the doors opened and the rest of the team poured in.

"Well look what we have here," chortled Mike, eyeing us. He wasn't even being mean, really, but the fact that he was even teasing us sucked. I wondered what it was that made him continue talking about it.

I glanced up at Edward, to see if he'd finally step up, but he just shrugged and walked over to talk to Coach.

Mike must not have valued his family jewels, because he slithered on over to me on the bench. "So Bella- "

Suddenly Emmett McCarty was standing in front of us. "Shut up, Mike."

We looked up in surprise. God, it was good to see something intimidate Mike.

"Seriously. Get going." Emmett stood there, towering over us, until Mike frowned and got up.

I looked down. Emmett and I weren't that close, but I had a feeling he liked Rose. Maybe that's why he'd said something.

"You cool?" he asked, poking me.

I stood up, meeting his eye. "Yup."

"Good. Come on."

We started hanging out after that. In fact, our friendship was one of the silver linings that came out of the whole debacle. Life's like that… few things are all good or all bad; the two are usually entwined somehow and you just have to ride out the bad to get to the good.

I realized all that later, of course. At the time, simply getting through school without drama was good enough.

* * *

_ever become good friends with someone out of an unlikely situation?_

_so, **this story jumps back and forth between junior year (written in the past tense, first person) and senior year (present tense, kind of a first/second person mix).** i've had a couple of confused readers so i wanted to clear that up._

_the Malicious story line started at chapter 19, with "vacuum", and will continue straight through till completion._

_thanks, guys, for reviewing. i love it, and i love you! Tiny Tyrant sends his regards._


	27. Steel

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt -steel**

* * *

I'm in my truck, looking for my phone, when you emerge from the school.

Your stitches have kept you out of the water a little longer than Coach would like, but he understands. And I know you're relieved, anyway.

This can't go on forever, but I've already decided not to badger you anymore. I get it: you're spooked.

I also can't hate you anymore. It's kind of difficult to despise someone who's so contrite. Your eyes shine with something I can't quite place… hope? Apology? You're different than you were and I don't know what to make of it.

My fingers smooth over the glossy finish on my phone. I leave the parking lot before you look over and see me.

* * *

It's been a long time since we touched on purpose.

Well, besides the day you almost drowned. That's different, though.

You look down at me, and I look up at you eyebrows raised. "I'm having the team over on Friday night. You're coming, right?"

Frowning, I look away. I feel ambushed, sort of. "Uh… I don't know."

Your silence translates as disappointment, and I'm too sure what to make of the feelings of guilt that wash over me. Guilt for what? For hurting your feelings? For being dismissive of what it is you seem to be going through?

"I'll see, okay?" I amend, pulling away to change out of my suit.

Afterwards, outside, you approach me before can escape in my truck again. "Bella."

"What's up?"

"Is it always going to be like this?" You shift, like you're anxious, or like I make you feel awkward. "You can't stand to be around me, can you?"

Sighing, I toss my stuff in to the bed of my truck. "I don't hate you…anymore."

"So then – "

"Last year was rough. You know that. It's taking me a while to get used to the new version of you. You can't expect me to drop everything just because you decided to not be an ass, or because I saved your life. That's ust… what if those things had never happened? Would you still be s self centered brat?"

You blink slowly, your face falling. "I deserve that."

"Yeah, you do." I open my truck door and then shut it, facing you again. "Just give me time. I want to trust your intentions, but don't. I can't."

"You're the only one who knows."

"Knows what?" I ask.

"What it was like that day. I don't want to talk to anyone else about it."

"So don't."

"Bella." Your face is pained, and suddenly I regret being such a hard ass. Even if you _do _deserve it, I'm simply not the kind of person who can watch someone else suffer and do nothing. Not even you.

I steel myself and look you dead in the eye, wanting to see if you'll ever allude to what Emmett confided in me last year. "What did I do to you to make you treat me so shitty last year?"

Your hands go in to your pockets, and for the first time ever, you look timid. "I didn't realize it was that shitty till Em called me out on it. That's when – you know. It stopped. I stopped."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Because you frustrate me. Always have and probably always will."

"But why do you care?" I ask, getting frustrated myself.

For a second, you look like you're going to tell me the truth, but then you close your mouth.

I open the door again and climb in, nodding to you before shutting the door. "I'll be there Friday. Just let me know if you want me to bring anything."


	28. Picnic

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - picnic**

* * *

First win of the season.

Our team had done well, winning several heats. Besides the relay I had participated in, I personally won another race. All in all, it had been a very good day.

Afterwards, my Dad brought me, Alice and Rose to our favorite diner to celebrate. Neither of the girls was on swim team, but they always attended the big meets. Sometimes Jess came too, but I had a feeling she was still pissy over the Edward disaster.

Whatever. Things had died down in terms of the rumors, thankfully. It was weird: for the first few weeks, Edward and me had been all anyone could talk about, and there were days when I wondered if it would ever end. I wasn't, like, the prom queen but I'd always had a ton of friends and acquaintances and to suddenly have these people looking at me funny sucked majorly.

But then Emmett stood up for me at practice that one day. And I wasn't sure if he said anything to anybody outside of that, but Mike never mentioned it again. In fact, he sort of ignored me – which was awesome. If there was one person I was happy to live without, it was Mike Newton.

"Hi, Bella!"

I froze. That was most definitely Edward's mother, which meant he was probably skulking somewhere around as well. He'd done all right at the meet too, although he'd just barely beat the kid he'd been competing against in the fifty meter. In fact, he hadn't swum his personal best; I knew his times and he hadn't been on point tonight.

Needless to say he knew it, too. I was willing to bet he was feeling a little salty, especially since I'd done really well. He'd always been so competitive with me…

"Hi, Mrs. Cullen." I smiled up at her.

She grinned back, rubbing my back and waving to Charlie and the girls. "You were great today, honey. I'll bet you're so proud of her, Charlie."

He nodded, wiping his face with a napkin. "Sure am. Your boy did well, too."

"Yes, he did. Talented kids," she agreed. "I'll let you guys get back to your meal. Good seeing you." She smiled again before walking back to the booth she was sharing with Edward and his father.

"Not as talented as you," snickered Rose. She loved that my high scores ate Edward up.

I elbowed her, not even wanting to get in to it. My father raised his eyebrows, but I just shook my head and stole one of his fries.

* * *

Practice after that was intense.

At first, I ignored Edward's little snide comments to his boys and his showboating in the pool. But soon it became too obvious to overlook. I knew he was jealous, but sometimes I wondered if it was more. It was like, people were no longer praising his supposed sexual prowess, and half the time I swam better than he did, so he was left with being mediocre in all aspects.

This was what I assumed, anyway, and the girls totally agreed. Why else would he act so passive aggressive?

Maybe we were on the same team, but we were constantly competing against one another. We'd been this way for years, but where it had been fun before, with good natured ribbing, now things felt straight up acerbic. We genuinely didn't like each other anymore.

Things came to a head one night after we'd headed to the locker rooms. I changed quickly, anxious to get going. I had a ton of homework to do and anyway, I'd forgotten my conditioner at home. As I rounded the corner, voices from the boy's side wafted out.

"…she's not even that good."

I bristled, recognizing Edward's voice. _What a whiner._

"I don't know. Her times are pretty consistent."

"Yeah, but it's like… I don't know. She works hard for it, but there's not much talent – "

They could have been discussing anybody but I just knew they were talking about me. No one else even blipped on Edward's self absorbed little radar. "Oh, get over yourself, dickwad," I yelled, striding away from the locker rooms.

Edward emerged, a towel around his neck, followed by a sophomore, Embry. "Damn, Bella, eavesdropping? Lame."

"Kinda hard not to hear when you're being all loud," I retorted, barely glancing back as I continued.

I heard him say something, and I could've sworn he called me a bitch. Whirling around, I pointed at him, not even caring that Coach Clapp was now in the room.

"No Edward, that would be you. _You're_ the little bitch, who can't stand that the one person who swims faster than you is a girl."

Coach cleared his throat. "Ms. Swan – "

But I barreled along, cutting him off as well as Edward, who'd opened his mouth to respond. "Instead of worrying about me, why don't you concentrate on yourself and on shaving a few seconds off of your time?"

Edward glared at me. "Now who needs to get over themselves?"

Rolling my eyes, I started walking away again. "I'm over it. So over it."

He said something back but I was already gone.

Well, until Coach caught up with me the second I hit the parking lot. "Bella, may I have a word with you?"

Heart pounding, I stopped. I knew I'd been out of line, yelling like that at Edward, but seriously, there was only so much I could take.

"Sorry about that," I said.

"The two of you have always been competitive, but this is ridiculous." He cocked an eyebrow. "Is there a problem I should be aware of?"

"No, Coach."

"You can't let this stuff get to you. It's not worth it."He shook his head, waving his hand toward the pool. "You've got to let go of this."

"It takes two to tango," I retorted. "Are you even going to talk to him?" It didn't seem fair. Why should I be reprimanded while Edward got away scot-free?

"I certainly will," he said. "But you have to do your part as well."

"I know," I sighed.

"Good." He gave me a soft thump on the back. "Go home, get some rest."

Easy for him to say.

* * *

"He's such an idiot," Alice said. She shot a dirty look down the lunch table toward Edward, who was eating with his friends.

"Yup," I said, nodding. I'd just told her about the blow out we'd had at practice the night before.

"Old news," Rose said, eyes down as she texted somebody furiously. "You know this, and yet you act surprised when he does yet another dumb thing."

"Well, practicing with Edward has never been a picnic, but recently he's hit all time jerkish lows," I said. "He was stupid before, but now he's super-stupid."

Rose pursed her lips. "All the boys in this school are stupid."

"Not all boys," Emmett said, sliding in to the seat next to her.

Rose sighed and continued to text, but I noticed her cheeks turned pink.

Huh.

"Anyway, maybe you should be the bigger man here, Bella," Emmett said, taking a bite out of his apple.

"You sound like Coach now," I complained.

"Just saying. Things aren't always what they seem."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, stabbing my salad.

He shrugged. "Exactly what it sounds like."

* * *

_my best friend was staying with us for a week, so things have been busy. but she left today, so i shouldn't be missing any more days. ;)_

_xoxoxo_


	29. Sequel

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization_

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt- sequel**

* * *

Normally I'd bring Alice or Rose along, or even Jess, but I decide against it at the last minute. It's nice to spend time with my teammates sometimes, talking about the things that we have in common. There are inside jokes and memories of races and ambitions that only these people understand; it's cozy inside the bubble.

Your mom's set up the grill, and I'm offered barbeque chicken and potato salad the moment I walk out to your back yard. Music plays softly, and it looks like everyone's here already, scattered in little groups. I forget how many kids we have on the team sometimes, complete with alternates and freshmen.

Emmett walks over, slinging his arm around me. "'Sup, Swan?"

I make a face, laughing because he never calls me by my last name. "Not much. So you didn't bring Rose either, huh?"

"Nah. I told her I'd pick her up later."

"She'd be bored here, anyway," I agree, nodding.

"Yep." He takes one of the potato chips off my plate and sidesteps away before I can swat at him.

"Get your own!"

"I think I will."

You're over on the hammock, talking with a couple of the newer team members. They gaze up at you, listening attentively as you explain something, your hands moving and your face alight with excitement. Obviously it's funny, because laughter ripples though the group every now and then.

It's something you love, and you're so good at it.

Swimming, I mean. Not showing off. It seems like you're concentrating on the former more than the latter these days, even if you have been hesitant about actually getting back in to the water. Monday marks the day you officially start to train again, but Emmett says you've been hitting the weights and running laps on the track after school.

I used to think you weren't afraid of anything, but I guess we all have our fears.

Actually, that isn't true. Apparently you were afraid last year, too, but of something else.

Brie passes by, touching my arm softly. "Hey Bella." Even though she's barely a sophomore, she seriously kicks ass in the water. I love watching the newbies race; they've got something to prove and they haven't let winning go to their head yet.

"Hi, Brie." We smile at each other for a second, and then she's gone, walking over to your group.

Just then you look up and see me, and your face totally changes. It does funny things to my heart, because you're looking at me like… like you like me.

Oh, Lord.

Instinctively I'd rather hide out at the picnic table with Emmett and the other loudmouths, but this is your party and that would be rude. Clearing my throat, I smile a little and start walking.

By now the kids you were talking to have noticed that your attention is elsewhere, and most of them are craning their necks to see what you're looking at. Swear to God, we must be the most entertaining twosome in town, with our history of competition, hatred, and now the fact I saved you. I know people talk about it; I hear them occasionally.

"Hi, guys," I say, standing awkwardly outside the circle.

"Hey, Bella. Glad you came." You smile and pat the seat next to you, which is ridiculous, because it's a hammock and I'm not sure I want to sit that close to you. Especially in front of a group.

When did our relationship become so bizarre? Pulling you out of the water was like entering the Twilight Zone; nothing's been the same ever since. Not even close.

But everyone looks all expectant so I stumble through the space they've made for me and I join you, careful not to upset the hammock's balance. We're the best swimmers on the team, and usually the best amongst the other schools too, so I'm used to the hero worship. When we were freshman, we totally regarded seniors like Quil Ateara the same way.

"I was telling them about the time me and Emmett pantsed those kids from Central after the meet last year," you say.

"Ah, good times," I say, remembering.

"So," Brie clears her throat, her eyes flickering back and forth between you and me. "What was it like that day? When Edward almost drowned?"

Shrugging, you turn a little red. "I was jumping off the big rock at West Beach like we always do and…"

The second hand embarrassment I feel by looking at you makes me queasy, so I turn to Brie. "If you don't jump when the tide is in, you can miscalculate and get dragged against the rock. It happens every summer, only Edward hit so hard he passed out."

I don't know why you look so mortified. Yeah, it was a dumb move, but it happened and it's over. Besides, now scores of little girls like Brie are looking at you like they just want to take you home and be your own personal nurse. You used to love that kind of attention.

"Was it scary?" she asks.

I nod. "Very."

You clear your throat. "They told me later it took you awhile to get me breathing."

I sigh, a little uncomfortable. "I'll be right back."

I don't even know where I'm going, just that I don't feel like rehashing this story over and over again. I get why it fascinates people, I do. But it gets tedious when we're the stars of this little melodrama.

You catch up to me right as I squeeze through your sliding glass doors.

"They're just curious, Bella."

"Something tells me you enjoyed that about as much as I did," I say, teasing you a little.

You laugh softly, running your fingers through your hair. We're standing really close, so I step back a little.

"Sometimes I wonder what it's going to be like this year."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "Like on swim team?"

"Yeah."

"You'll get back in to the water like always."

You fold your arms and watch me, like you're waiting for me to catch up.

I glance back outside, watching our friends as they mill around. "You mean now that we're not at each other's throats."

"I'm sorry about last year."

"I know."

"I mean it."

"I know you mean it." I give you a half smile, trying to lighten the conversation we seem to always end up having these days. "I guess it's true what they say about near death experiences…"

"It's not a joke," you say, and you're serious.

Maybe you're right, and I shouldn't joke around. After all, it wasn't funny that day and it sure as hell isn't funny now. But sometimes it's better than being emo about it.

"No, It's not," I admit. "But things have been better since that day. I wish it hadn't gone down like that but it did and, looking at how things are, I'm not really sorry."

"Actually, neither am I."

If I look back over the last couple of weeks, I can see how this could be true. Not counting getting in to the pool, you're not so much scared as you are thoughtful. Open. Real with people.

I say it. "It's like you were scared before, of being yourself of whatever, and now that you've seen what it is to be truly scared you're not." Chuckling, I shake my head. "If that makes sense."

"It makes sense. You always did see right through me, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

We're quiet, trying not to full out stare at each other and failing.

"You didn't need the bathroom or anything, did you?" you ask eventually. "I can show you where it is…"

"No," I say, automatically remembering the last time we were in a bathroom together. Yeah, that's a sequel I could do without, thanks. "I'm good."

* * *

_thanks for the input, guys. i love the questions and theories and wonderings. most of you get it, i think. you know how boys can be. especially the immature ones. speaking of immature boys, i have a seriously young one trying to get my attention. love you! xoxo_


	30. Block

All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

not beta'd

storyline - Malicious

prompt - block

* * *

"Where's Rose?" asked Alice, sliding in to the chair beside me.

I glanced around the library, shrugging. "Probably with Emmett."

"Emmett? McCarty?"

"Yeah."

Alice stayed quiet a minute, but I knew it wouldn't last. She was too curious.

"What's up with Rose and Emmett?"

Chuckling, I leaned closer to her so as not to piss off our already frazzled looking librarian. "I'm pretty sure he likes her and I think maybe she likes him."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope."

She leaned back in her seat. "Wow."

"I know."

It was beginning to look like Rose's embargo on boys from our school had lifted – at least, for Emmett. I suspected he was one of the few guys that could handle Rose, her "rules" and her feisty ways.

"So what about you?" Alice whispered, doodling in her notebook.

"What about me?" I knew what she was asking; Alice always felt the need to match people up, as if the future of the world depended on such things.

Okay, so in a very, _very_ broad sense it did but still. I had time, damn.

"You don't like anybody?"

"I think Peter's cute."

"Peter? From Mathletes?"

"Yeah." I nodded. Peter was really cute, actually, in that hot geeky sort of way. We'd been chatting during AP Statistics lately.

"Hmm, I can see that," said Alice, chewing on her pencil eraser.

A gross habit and I told her so.

She ignored me and continued staring off in to space, probably plotting. I dove back in to my history research. It was a busy day and I wanted to have my work done early.

* * *

Peter grinned at me as we walked in to the dim theater.

He had this quiet, confident appeal that I could no longer deny being attracted to. There was just something really sexy about a guy who knew he was cute but didn't act like it.

Being Friday night, the cinema was completely packed. After searching for-fricking-ever we finally found an empty-ish row and sat down. Peter set the huge tub of popcorn he'd bought on my lap and we started sharing it, talking quietly while the previews ran.

Right as the lights darkened fully, there was a small flurry of action at the end of the row as two more people edged in to sit down. Handing Peter our popcorn, I moved my purse off the seat beside me to make room for the person standing there.

Irony of ironies. _Of course_ it would be Edward.

Of course.

Even in the dark I could see his dismay. I'm sure it matched my own. Ugh.

Someone hissed for him to sit down already and he did, quickly dropping in to the seat and leaning away. I wanted to tell him to just move over and sit his date beside me but that was just stupid and petty so I stayed quiet.

Whatever. Hopefully the movie would be engaging enough for me to just block him out.

Meanwhile, Peter was eating popcorn on my right with gusto, mumbling about how excited he was to see this particular adaptation of his favorite comic book characters. Sighing inwardly, I folded my arms over my purse and stared straight ahead, doing my best to ignore the eyes burning in to me from my left.

* * *

_Oh no._

_No no no._

Peter was totally giving me the "kiss me" look. I could feel it; he'd been glancing at me every five seconds for awhile now. The problem was, while I was attracted to him, I wasn't sure I wanted to make out with him. At least, not on our first date. I didn't want to give him the wrong impression.

Secondly, the last guy I'd kissed – disastrously, mind you – was sitting on my other side. Why were the fates so cruel?

Eventually Peter tapped my arm, and I scooted closer, thinking he wanted to say something. Instead he tilted my face toward his and planted a wet one on me. I was so startled I dropped my purse.

Edward, in a show of rare politeness, leaned down to pick it up at the same time I did, so we collided. Hard.

"Ouch!" he hissed, glaring as he rubbed his head.

"Sorry," I muttered. Although, my head hurt too. It wasn't like I'd done it on purpose.

Meanwhile, Peter was apologizing profusely. I grabbed my bag, sat up, and prayed for the movie to hurry up and finish so I could get the hell out.

But when Peter cluelessly tried to kiss me again, it was Edward, not me, who stopped him by throwing a handful of M&M's at him.

What the hell?

Peter shoved the popcorn at me and jumped up, ready to… I don't know…fight? With Edward? I peeked over at Edward's date, a girl I recognized from school but didn't know. She gave me a dirty look and left.

Any satisfaction I could have felt from watching that was quickly overshadowed by embarrassment because no sooner had Edward stood to deal with Peter, one of the ushers showed up and asked us to leave.

I couldn't believe it. Any of it. Why would Edward care if Peter tried to kiss me? I would have thought he'd enjoy my discomfort. But then, somewhere between the lobby and the parking lot, the truth hit me so hard I felt pukey.

Emmett's cryptic words about things not being as they seemed came back to me.

Edward was jealous. Not just of my swimming, but of Peter. He…liked me, and instead of expressing it like a normal human being, or at least a mature one, he tried to terrorize me because I didn't like him back.

"We don't have to go home yet," Peter said, as if all was peachy keen as he unlocked his car.

I sighed. "I think I'd prefer if we did."


	31. Nifty

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - malicious**

**prompts - shifty, nifty, thrift(y)**

* * *

I knew it.

It's Monday morning, first day of two-a-days, and you're here way early, before anyone else. Back in the day you were always here first, but it was to get in a little extra training time, not because you were trying to avoid an audience.

I used to come early to train extra, too. But today I came because… I don't know. Maybe I thought you needed a little moral support. You look all right, though, better than all right. You're cutting through the water like a hot knife in butter, like you never left, like you were never afraid.

Easing the door shut, I walk swiftly past, not wanting to interfere with you.

"Hey."

I turn slowly, hoping you don't think I'm spying or something.

"You were in the zone," I say, smiling a little.

You nod, snapping your goggles off and wiping your face.

"How do you feel?"

"Good." You smile. "Really good."

"Coach'll be relieved," I say, stepping backward toward the girl's locker room. "I'll be right back."

Talking to you without bickering or bantering still feels strange, but not unwelcome. I actually feel comfortable. There was a point where seeing you made me anxious, for no reason other than I didn't trust you. But you're straightforward these days, not shifty or sly; I no longer feel like you're out to get me.

We're not enemies anymore.

I change quickly, craving the water. Craving…

…a swim.

Watching somebody execute the butterfly as well as you do is always something to marvel at. I guess I didn't let myself appreciate it before; you had your own fan club of which you were president.

I don't mind watching now. You've changed, but so have I.

Diving in at the deep end, I start off slow, clearing my head, getting myself in to focus. You catch up and we swim silently, in tandem, until the rest of the team shows up.

You may not have needed me in order to get back in to the water, but I know you appreciate my company.

I know because I appreciate yours.

* * *

"So what's going on with you and Edward?" Rose asks. Her back is to me, because she's hanging this nifty little wind chime she found at the thrift shop earlier, but I know she's got a smug little smile going on.

"Let me guess. You and Emmett have been discussing us."

"Aha, so you acknowledge that there is an 'us'. I mean, that you two are an 'us'," she says. "Is this good here, or should I hang it in the window over my desk?"

"I like it there."

"Good, me too." She jumps down off her chair and stands back, admiring her latest trinket. "This was a good find."

"Yeah, it was," I agree, loving how the tiny crystals refract sunlight, sending prisms across Rose's bedroom wall. "Although it's a wind chime and you have it indoors."

"I'll just keep my fan on so it blows the chimes," she adds, making me snort. "So, like I was s-"

"Are you at the beach this weekend?" I interrupt.

"Yeah, Saturday and Sunday actually. Jake asked me to cover for him."

I plop down on to her bed. "Oh, yeah… he asked me too but I'm already guarding on Sunday."

"Right. Now stop changing the subject." She sits beside me, kicking my thigh on purpose.

"Ow."

"Edward. You've been all nurturing and present in his life lately."

I shrug uncomfortably, gazing at the sparkles in the window. "He's behaving himself. Who am I to hold a grudge?"

At that, Rose guffaws loudly, kicking me again. "Yeah right!"

I sit up, kicking her back. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dude, you held a grudge for like two years…"

"That's because he kept on doing stupidness that was very deserving of a grudge. He's finally chilled out, thank God." I roll my eyes. "I was beginning to wonder."

"Well…" Rose gets that look, the one where she has something secret and juicy. "You know he likes you."

"Mm."

"Maybe his brush with death forced him to stop playing games and focus on what's truly important."

"'Brush with death'? Have you been watching those crazy caught on video shows again?"

"Shut up, stop…avoiding."

"Okay, fine. I totally agree with you. It's just not something I'm comfortable thinking about."

"But why?"

"Because it's weird! He goes from being antagonizing to really nice… excuse me if it takes a while to adjust to."

"He's always liked you, though."

"Doesn't excuse his shiteous former behavior."

"True. But he's matured."

I stare at her in disbelief. "When did you become Edward's advocate, Rose? You used to hate him almost as much as I did."

"The day you pulled him from the water… that really freaked me out. It really put things in perspective, like, all the stuff we cared about is nothing compared to almost dying." She sighs loudly. "And now, he follows you around like a puppy. It's so pathetic and sweet."

I grimace.

"Aren't you curious?" she presses.

"About what? Edward?" I shake my head. "I know Edward."

"You _think_ you know Edward."

"What, you know him?"

"No, but Emmett does." The irritating little know-it-all smile is back. "And I happen to know that Edward does, in fact, worship you like the goddess you are."

"You should be a writer. Or a life coach."

"Look at me and tell me you have absolutely no feelings for him," she demands.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. The fan hums. My stomach growls and somewhere down the street, a dog barks.

"Yeah." She nods. "That's what I thought."

* * *

_aw, looks like we're warming up now, aren't we? sigh. may-haps now edward will see that girls prefer wooing to warring._

_so, how many of you dangle wind chimes? __ha, just kidding. or how about: what do you dangle? wind chimes or wind socks?_

_feel free not to answer. this is what happens when i get giddy/silly/sleepy._


	32. Mug

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - mug**

* * *

After my horrible date with Peter (who I had to let down easy when he tried to kiss me yet again outside my house) I did some serious soul searching.

While Edward's actions were certainly reprehensible and mind-blowingly juvenile, if I was right and he did in fact have a crush on me, then I could sort of understand. I mean, I didn't agree with how he'd been treating me, but I got it.

Say the situation was reversed, and I'd been the one with crazy feelings for him. After hooking up in the bathroom, maybe I too would've feel crappy and used if he acted like business as usual afterward. Maybe I'd have been a little vindictive or passive-aggressive.

I explained this to Alice and Rose via Gchat one night, but they still both felt Edward was out of line.

After they had a good laugh at my movie story, that is.

"_good intentions don't excuse bad behavior"_, Alice typed. "_the result is still the same, regardless of why he does what he does. It still hurts._"

This was totally true, and it was with that mindset that I approached Edward before school on Tuesday morning. I waited in my truck until he parked his car and got out.

"Edward."

His steps faltered, and he turned around, narrowing his eyes when he saw me. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you for a second."

He raised his eyebrows. "'Bout what? Saturday? I already said I was sorry about that."

"Um, actually … no you didn't. But-"

"Sorry for ruining what looked like a lame date?" He smirked.

Ignoring the flash of irritation I felt, I took a deep breath. "Whatever. That's not what I wanted to discuss."

"Well, hurry it up because first bell's about to ring."

Okay, so, this wasn't going as planned. He was being his usual difficult self.

"Do you have feelings for me?" I blurted. My face heated up immediately.

He frowned. "What, like romantically?"

I nodded, biting my lip.

"Why, do you want me to?" he asked, leaning closer. "Could it be that you like me, Bella?"

"No, I –"

"Hell no I don't like you," he scoffed, taking a step back. "All it took was one night to know that for sure."

Frowning, I shook my head. "Then what's your deal? Why do you treat me like this?"

"Because I can," he said, already walking away. "And because you always react so perfectly."

In church we'd learned that thinking a sin was akin to doing it. Well if that was the case, Edward was a dead man.

Many, _many_ times over.

* * *

He made me seethe. His voice got on my last nerve and I could hardly stand to look at him; even his face annoyed me.

Ever notice how a good looking person can be so damn butt ugly when their personality sucks?

Practice was always a battle of my will. Instead of regarding Edward at all, I channeled my annoyance in speed, marinating in satisfaction when my time was better than his. Whenever he won I just let it fuel my determination to be better next time.

Honestly, he barely paid me any attention either – unless he absolutely had to.

We completed our bio lab and then got permission to partner with other people. We ignored each other at meets, parties and school. If people knew, they let it alone, probably sensing things had hit an all time low.

One night at Emmett's, a bunch of us were watching movies in the den. Rose left the room to get more popcorn with Alice and Jess – who was speaking to me again – and everyone else was talking amongst themselves.

Emmett sat down beside me so hard the couch cushion nearly bounced me off.

"What's up with the mean mug?" he teased, pinching my arm.

"What?"

He poked my cheek. "If looks could kill…"

"I just don't know why you had to invite _him,_" I whispered.

Emmett chuckled. "I invited him because he's my friend."

"He's an ass."

"Has he been messing with you lately?"

I started to say yes, but then realized that outside of practice and a couple of classes, Edward and I had barely even crossed paths, let alone spoken.

"I guess not."

"I told him to knock it off," Emmett said, leaning back.

"See, but you shouldn't have had to. He should've just known," I complained.

Emmett sighed. I could see he was tiring of the conversation, and probably the entire situation. "Just let it go, jeez. So he should've known, so what." He rubbed his hand over his face. "The point is he gets it now, okay?"

I nodded, properly chastised. Emmett was one of those people who were so cool, and so chill, that if _he _was annoyed you know you were acting dumb. He was right in this case, anyway. Being pissy because Edward was around was pointless.

He leaned even closer, and then paused, like he wanted to say more. "He told me what you asked him a couple of weeks ago and what he told you back. Just… remember guys have pride, Bella. You can't wound it and expect him not to retaliate."

"But I didn't mean to wound it!" I whispered.

"I know, which is why I told him to stop being a dick."

I thought about that for a while, letting it sink in.

"Okay?" asked Emmett.

"Yeah."

"Good. Now stop pouting and let's watch this movie." He stood up, rubbing his belly caveman style. "Rose! Where's my popcorn?"

"You got legs!" she yelled from the kitchen. "Use 'em!"

I laughed, loving her brand of snark, at the same time Edward did. Our eyes met for just a second and then I looked away, like I'd been burned.

And in a way, I had been. Over and over.

* * *

_turning point time..._

_also, the variety of opinions concerning windchimes is hilariously fascinating. ;) _

_so. ever have an emmett in your life? i had a couple throughout the years, one of whom, alex, ended up being my brother in law._


	33. Harmony

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - harmony**

* * *

It means nothing, this realization that maybe I feel something for you other than annoyance (or pity, or disgust, or anger). In the absence of these negative emotions I feel strangely untethered, like part of my identity was our mutual hatred and now it's gone. Like I'm figuring who I am in this respect, in respect to you.

Of course, positive feelings and good interactions trump the bad stuff any day. I am beyond thankful for our peace, and every day I get used to it a little more. Like I've said, though, fully trusting you is hard, especially when a little voice within warns to watch for the second you turn on me.

For the record, I don't think you would do that. But I spent a long time not trusting you, and old habits die hard.

The stakes are higher now, too. Last year you were in a pain in my ass simply because you were. Now, it's more complicated. Having issues would suck in and of themselves, but now in addition to that there are the _feelings_ that neither of us admits to.

Maybe you don't even know about mine. In fact, I know you don't. I hardly know about them myself.

It makes me nervous, confounds me, forces my brain to expand in order to make room for the new weird knowledge that I might want someone I thought I'd always reject.

No. I have little interest in pursuing these feelings.

Weeks go by, months.

We swim together in the mornings, and spend practice in harmony instead of competition. There are parties and bonfires and I see you at all of them. Classes where we coexist in a comfortable quietude. I'm not jonesing to be your partner for projects, but nor do I move if you sit nearby.

It's a mellow balance, but not one that can last indefinitely.

Seasons change, people change.

We've already begun.

* * *

The engine turns over and then dies.

Turns, dies. Turns, dies.

Silence.

My heart squeezes anxiously. It's November, and we're having our first cold front, which is probably like early spring for people up north. For us, though, it's chilly.

And it's dark already.

My dad is already working his shift, and will be for another couple of hours. He'd come in a situation like this, obviously, but I hate calling unless it's absolutely necessary.

I dig my phone out of my back and dial.

"Hey. Bella?" There's music in the background. I hope I haven't caught Rose at a bad time.

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, my truck's dead. Can you come back to school and get me?"

"Of course. Gimme ten minutes."

"Thanks," I breathe, relieved. "I'm in front, by my tree."

"Where else," she laughs. "Sit tight."

We live in a safe enough place, but at night the school parking just feels eerie. Maybe it's because I'm used to seeing it packed full of people and cars, and now it's empty and shadowy.

Eventually headlights wash across the empty lot. Making sure I have everything, I flip my hoodie up and jump out.

But it's you who pulls up.

Abruptly, my stomach clamps up. I lock the doors to my truck and walk hesitantly to your car.

You smile when I climb in. "Hey. I was with Emmett when you called Rose, so…"

"And he was with her," I finish, smiling.

"Basically."

"That's cool. Thanks for coming," I say, feeling weirdly embarrassed. "Yeah, I don't know what happened; my truck's never done this before."

Shrugging, you pull out on to the main road. "Could be anything. Will you be okay getting it to a shop tomorrow?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll just get Jake to do it or something."

You frown at the windshield. "You guys going out now?"

A laugh bursts from me, startling the both of us. I cover my mouth, shaking my head.

You smile cautiously. "What?"

"I'd never date Jake. I love him, but… not like that. I still remember when he used to pick his nose and eat it. And make mud pies, which he'd try to make _me_ eat."

"I didn't realize you'd been friends so long."

"Yeah. Our fathers went to school together back in the day."

"Wow." You seem genuinely surprised. "That's crazy."

"I know."

Our conversation stalls after that. I stare out the window, drumming my fingers gently against my jeans.

"So what were you doing here so late?" you ask eventually.

"I came back to get something from my locker…"

"They've been locked up for awhile now, though," you point out.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but sometimes they'll let you in if they're still mopping or whatever."

"What did you need?"

My stomach tightens even more. I don't need you doing favors for me. Getting a ride is bad enough.

"It's okay. I'll just get it tomorrow." I look at your profile. "Thanks, though."

But you glance at me, your face dappled in red from the brake lights in front of us. "Maybe I can help, though."

"You're driving me home. That's a huge help."

You snort, looking away. "Stubborn."

My street is soon after the next stop light. You get in to the turning lane, and still we remain silent. We have all sorts of awkwardness going for us: the _past enemies_ kind, the _aren't good friends _kind, the _possibly attracted_ kind. It's really kind of awful.

"My AP government and politics notes."

"Your notes? For tomorrow's test?"

I nod, blushing. Now you know that I was dumb enough to forget my notes and hardheaded enough to attempt refusing your help.

"Damn, Bella, I'll just email you mine."

"I…thank you. That would be great."

We pull up to my driveway. I reach for the handle and pause, biting my lip. "Thanks for coming to get me, Edward. And for offering your notes."

You laugh lowly. "Trust me; it's the least I could do."

I shake my head, hoping I'm not about to be presumptuous. I've misread you before and it was mortifying. "We're good, you know. You don't… owe me or anything." Again, my face is blazing.

"I'll always owe you. For more than you'll ever know."

"What do you mean?"

You smile, nodding toward my house. "I'll email the notes as soon as I get home."

"Thanks." I get out and wait until you drive away before letting myself inside.

* * *

_thanks for the reviews, pm's and tweets! i adore yous._


	34. Priority

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization_

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - priority**

****each chapter jumps back and forth. there are only two timelines: junior year (the past, written in past tense) and senior year (the present, written in present tense). this chapter covered the end of junior year, so it's after the bathroom spectacle but before B saves E.**

* * *

One day it occurred to me that Edward Cullen no longer existed.

I mean, he was physically _there_, but I'd become adept at completely ignoring him. I'd started doing it so as not to stress myself out but eventually did it so thoroughly that I tended to not even see him. And it went both ways: he ignored me, too. Ironically, the first guy Rose decided to get serious with – like, ever – was Emmett… who was now not just a friend or swim buddy of Edward's, but his very best friend.

Of course.

So he was around.

But the sour feeling I got in my stomach when we crossed paths was enough to keep my mind focused elsewhere and after awhile, like I said, it was second nature. When they saw that we were content to just let each other alone, Emmett and Rose's subtle attempts at building bridges eventually gave way to simply ensuring the peace.

I'd never clashed so badly with another human being; not even Maggie Lewis in third grade, the principle's daughter who swore she was hot stuff. My entire life I'd gotten along with people, not because I was a wallflower or a pushover, but because I genuinely enjoyed the company of others. Edward and I were an anomaly, one that I wanted to move on from and forget about as soon as it was possible.

So that was that. Our arrangement was tenuous, but it worked, I suppose.

As the months went by, I almost forgot that things had ever been any different.

* * *

"Swim camp? Damn, girl." Rose rested her chin on my shoulder as she read my computer screen. "How long will you be gone again?"

"Six weeks. I won't be at camp the whole time; I'm visiting my aunt and uncle too."

"In Spoons." Rose snickered. It was only the seventeenth time she'd made this joke about the town of Forks.

I rolled my eyes. "Right."

"Aww, I'm gonna miss you though," said Alice, sighing. "You won't be here for the fireworks by the beach."

A little knot of sadness lumped in my stomach, and I closed my laptop. "I know, don't remind me."

"Don't get me wrong, I'll miss you, but I'm glad you're going," Rose said. "You're always talking about improving your time and all that. Plus, this will benefit your lifeguarding, too."

I nodded. "Yeah…that's why I'm going. I wanted to do this last year but we couldn't really afford it. My dad totally surprised me this time around…"

"He knows swimming is a priority for you," Alice said, making room so we could all sit on my bed. "I'm happy for you too, Bella. It won't be the same this summer, but it's worth it."

"Agreed," Rose said.

I felt good about my decision to attend the Nike Swim Camp in Seattle. It had been years since I'd been to Washington, and even then I'd just been visiting family. Now, though, I was going for the main purpose of working on my stroke. Well, all of my strokes. Knowing I was going to be leaving town for such a long time was already making me feel a little homesick, but the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Besides, a little part of me liked that I'd be far away from the local beaches for the majority of summer. I could use a little change of scenery. And I loved lifeguarding, but sometimes doing it week in and week out got tiresome. I could finally do something that was just for me, something that would improve my swimming and guarding, as well as look good when it was time to apply to college.

More than anything, I was just really excited to be doing something I loved.

Junior year ended on a mellow note. I aced my end of the year exams, made sure I had a stellar tan before leaving town, and made sure to spend a ton of quality time with my dad.

The night before I left, Alice very sweetly went against my wishes and threw me a going away party at her house. After a dinner date with my father, he dropped off at Alice's, where I was greeted by a bunch of friends including most of the swim team. I tried not to feel irritated when Edward showed up with a couple of guys from our class. He was, after all, on the team.

And besides, our drama had had happened so long before it was hard to remember how it had started…okay, that was lie. I knew exactly how it started, and it was one of my most unfavorite memories.

I didn't think I'd have attended a party thrown in _his _honor, but whatever.

Alice, Rose and Jessica walked up to me with a little tray of grape jello shots. We each took a couple and, on the count of three, tossed 'em back.

I wouldn't have to see him for the summer anyway.

* * *

_and with that, junior year ends and we start to come full circle. _

_have you ever been to camp? i haven't. not sleepaway camp, at least._

_xoxoxo_

**_each chapter jumps back and forth. there are only two timelines: junior year (the past, written in past tense) and senior year (the present, written in present tense). this chapter covered the end of junior year, so it's after the bathroom spectacle but before B saves E._**


	35. Just One More

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - "Just one more," she said.**

* * *

By the time I get out of the shower and grab a bite to eat, it's nine o'clock. I'm stalling now, not wanting to check my email because if the notes aren't there I won't just be frustrated, I'll be disappointed.

It's getting late, though, and even though government is one of my best classes, I really need to prepare for this test.

Armed with hot chocolate-extra-marshmallows, I sit at my desk and click on over to Gmail.

New message. I wonder belatedly how you know my email. Probably from swim team announcements and stuff. But anyway, it's there.

You came through.

* * *

"How'd you think you did?"

"Good." I smile, nodding. "Thanks to you."

You grin back, all self satisfied, and for once it doesn't irritate me. In fact, it's sort of cute.

I sigh inwardly. Yes, we're definitely still dwelling in the Twilight Zone.

"How about you?" I ask, making an effort to be polite. I figure the more we do this the more natural it'll become.

"It was easier than I was expecting. She didn't have as many essays as last time."

"Yeah, I think for me too… although, I sorta like the essays."

"You would." Your cheeks turn pink and you look away.

It's like you're embarrassed, like you think you've said too much maybe. I wonder how much you know about me, and if you've actually been observing me for all this time.

"Essays give me a chance to go deeper. Multiple choice and short answer don't really allow for that. It's all black and white. I prefer the grey areas."

You nod. "I can see that."

The end of the hall looms up ahead. I have to go left for my next class, and it looks like you have to turn right. We do this painfully polite smile and wave thing before splitting up. I fight the urge to look behind to see if you're looking at me. Because if you are, and we catch each other, it would be awkward.

By the time November swings around I'm wearing my red zipped hoodie over my swimsuit the days that I'm life guarding. Some days are colder than others, but there are still a few brave souls in the frigid water: surfers and skim boarders in wetsuits and snow birds who are relieved to be away from the north.

We don't have to be on duty as often because of the weather, so I have a lot more free time. My father still works his crazy hours though, so I spend a lot of time with the girls.

The swim team is pretty close knit; most of us have been swimming together for years and years. Even when the season is over, we hang out at school and on weekends. This was crappy sometimes last year, when you and I were feuding, but this year it's different. In fact, it's like night and day.

Now I'm not anxious because you intimidate me. I'm anxious because I can tell you like me – it becomes more obvious each day - and I think I might like you too.

Whatever happened that day on the beach affected us in ways I would have never fathomed.

* * *

I watch, nauseated and envious, as Alice sits on Jasper's lap, feeding him this chocolate cake she made last night. She's all proud because it's some recipe that has been passed down through the women in Jasper's family, generations of traditionally amazing Southern cooks.

"Just one more bite, baby," she says, steering the fork in to his mouth.

He closes his eyes and moans and at that point I look away, disturbed by how erotically suggestive this is getting.

Okay, okay, and it's romantic. I'm not gonna lie; I'm a little jealous that for the majority of high school my love life has consisted of nothing but first dates and group dates and once even a blind date. Normally I don't care much; between school, lifeguarding and swim team, I've had little time for serious relationships.

Well, technically I still don't have the time, but I'd make time if I had someone.

The same voice that used to caution me about you now whispers your name.

Like you can hear my thoughts, you look over at me. I…didn't even realize I was looking at you and now I'm the one whose face is on fire. But you just nod toward Jasper and Alice's Valentines Day-in-fall display and roll your eyes.

I'm beginning to think another reason we've always butted heads is because we might be more alike than I realized.

Shaking my head, I mouth "I know."

We share a smile and I look away, just in time to see Rose raise an eyebrow super smugly at me.

I get up and escape to Emmett's kitchen, knowing she'll be hot on my trail, so I'm ready for her when she comes prancing in after me.

"Forget it," I say, preemptively.

She purses her lips. "Not saying anything - don't have to because you're already thinking it. So."

"Then why'd you look at me like that?" I ask.

"Why are you smiling and blushing like _that_?" she shoots back.

I turn and open the freezer, sticking my head inside.

"It's okay if you like him, you know," she whispers, suddenly right next to me. "Don't let pride keep you from doing what you want to do."

"It's not just pride," I murmur, considering the frozen pizza inches from my face. I could use a little pepperoni right now.

"Then what? Are you afraid because of how he used to be? 'Cause I can tell you for sure that he was just scared shitless. You know how dogs bite you when they're scared?"

Laughing, I back out of the freezer and shut it. "I get it. I guess… I just wish he'd tell me all of this himself. I mean, he's apologized and everything, but sometimes I wonder if he even knows what he should be sorry for." I rub my eyes, suddenly tired. "I know you're sick of me. Half the time I'm sick of me."

"Shut up, I'm not sick of you. But I do think you should, like, tell him how you feel."

"What? No way."

Rose folds her arms. "Why not?

"Why not what?" Alice asks, floating in to the kitchen with the now empty of chocolate-cake-sex plate.

"You know," Rose says, looking pointedly at the other room. "Why Bella doesn't just talk to him."

Alice squeezes in to the corner where we're standing. "Oh. Oh, yeah girl. It's time."

"I love how you two have obviously been discussing this."

"Pfft, we've been discussing this for like a year," Rose says. "Well… at least since summer time…definitely since you saved him."

"There are so many ways I can see this going so totally wrong," I whine, freaked out. The more we talk about it, the more real it becomes. My heart is pounding; I can actually see myself having this conversation with you.

"Why, Bella?" Alice asks. "The ball is so in your court. It always, always has been."

You and Emmett walk in to the room, effectively putting an end to our conversation. You sense it, too, because you both stop talking and eye us. You look at me and freeze, and I see it then: vulnerability, nervousness. And a little hurt, too.

You run your hands through your hair and turn to Emmett. "I'm gonna head out."

Emmett sighs in resignation. "Yeah, okay."

"See you guys," you say to the rest of us, your stride cocky and your grin crooked and your head held high.

I feel so stupid for not knowing this was an act.

I feel like I'll puke if I don't say something.

"Edward, wait up."

* * *

_wow, a good many of you have been to sleepaway camp! like i said, i did a couple of day camps but that's about it. i also lived in the islands, though, so...i don't know. it was different. ;)_

_so. what's your favorite chocolate recipe? i have so many. SO MANY. i love chocolate._


	36. Round

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - round**

* * *

Yawning, I slipped in to my old red suit and pulled a pair of cutoffs on over it. Tank top, flip flops, phone in my bag, and I was ready to go. It had been just over six weeks since I'd last lifeguarded, but I was more than ready to return to my old turf.

Alice had already called to double check that I was on my way, even though we'd hung out the night before. Funnily enough, Rose and Jacob were both working as well, so it would be just like old times with the crew back together again. While it had been fun taking a break to focus only on swimming, I had to admit that I'd missed everything about home.

The kitchen was a mess a result of my father's culinary attempts. It looked like he'd mastered the eggs, but the pancakes were a little burnt, assuming that those slightly charred, round things _were_ pancakes…

But he grinned when he saw me, ruffling my hair with his free hand.

"Hey Bella baby," he said.

I rolled my eyes, smiling in spite of myself. Yeah, we'd missed each other pretty bad. I didn't know what I'd do at the end of the year when I went off to college.

"Hi Dad. Is this almost done? I have to be at the beach soon."

"It's done. Pull up a chair."

Half an hour later I kissed him good bye and grabbed my keys.

"Be careful today. It's supposed to rain later, probably lightning."

"I'll be careful. Love you."

Despite my father's weather forecasts, the sky was a bright forever blue, scattered with cuddly looking clouds. The parking lot to the beach was only half full, but I knew that would change within an hour or so. During summer, traffic at the beach was always crazy – part of the reason so many lifeguards were needed.

Tightening my ponytail, I grabbed my stuff and jumped out.

I turned my face to the sun. It felt really good to be home.

Out on the sand, Jacob tackled me from behind, lifting me up in his excitement. "Heeeey Belly!"

I elbowed him in the gut and got away, making a face. "Ugh, shush with that."

He pretend pouted. "What, didn't you miss me?"

"I saw you at dinner last night, Jacob."

Now he was the one making faces. "Now you sound like my grandmother."

"What, that's your name, dude."

"Yeah, yeah. If you need me, just shout," he said, flashing me a toothy grin as he jogged away.

Smiling to myself, I slipped my whistle over my head and climbed to my perch. My phone sang, letting me know that Rose was texting me.

_Is that u?_

Squinting, I looked up and down the beach. _Yeah. Where r u?_

_Wave_

I looked up and waved until I saw someone waving back, two perches down.

_Welcome back, puta_

I snorted at her classy greeting. _Thanks… missed u_

_Missed u too. But u know this. Anyway, ttyl._

_Ttyl. _I tossed my phone back in to my bag and put my sunglasses on. More than likely it would be a chill day like usual, but I needed to be vigilant and focused on the water.

Around noon Jake came wandering up, shoving a hot dog shown his throat. "Watch for the assholes at the rock today, 'kay?"

I nodded, shading my eyes as I looked out at the huge, sole rock kids liked to jump off of. We kept waiting for the beach officials to make it illegal or against the rules, because it was so dangerous, but they never did. I wondered what it would take for them to finally do it.

"Yeah, I know. I've been watching."

"Good." He nodded and chased his food with a Gatorade. "You doing okay? Want an ice-cream?"

"No, Jake," I chuckled. "I'm good."

"Might want to take advantage of my generosity before I get sick of you again," he said.

"You'd never sick of me," I said.

"True dat."

I threw a shell at his head, laughing when he cringed away. "Go back to your post."

He threw the shell back and walked away, talking up a cutie in a bikini. I watched as they walked by a huge group that had just gotten to the beach, complete with coolers and crap. I recognized Edward right away by his shorts, as well as Mike and Emmett. They started tossing a football around, kicking up sand like the goons they were.

I smirked. Emmett knew better than to set up next to Rose; she'd warned him repeatedly not to distract her when she was "on duty", which is why he was by me and not her. I glanced down the beach and sure enough, she waved; she knew he was there.

Maybe we could get our lunch break off together and chill with our friends.

* * *

Someone's shout rose above the others.

This is how I knew. I focused in on a trio coming out of the water, two guys helping a girl. They saw me on my perch and yelled that there was one more they couldn't find.

I hit the ground running – literally – flying across the sand so fast it didn't have time to scorch my feet.

My surroundings disappeared: happy beach sounds, the splash of color in my peripheral – sucked in to a vacuum the second I'm got in the water. My lifebuoy bobbed behind me, slowing me down just a little, but I had to bring it.

Breathing deeply, I cut through the water, long, sure strokes taking me to the edge of the rock.

_Where are you, where are you…_

The wind picked up and the water turned choppy, darkened by incoming clouds. Typical for this town; I couldn't remember the last time the sun stayed out all day long. I held my breath and went under, used to the way the salt burned my eyes.

_There._

I recognized the red, yellow and green swim trunks and for a moment I almost panicked.

Almost.

* * *

_hi loved ones! thanks for reading and commenting and putting up with my inane questions. love!_

_can i just say i am in chocolate heaven with all of the recipes? oh yeah. in fact i made peanut butter cookies tonight (best recipe ever), dipped in melted cadbury's. mhm. i would share them with you if i could._


	37. Magnitude

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompts - solitude, fortitude, magnitude**

* * *

You whip around, looking vaguely surprised that I've called out to you. "What's up?"

"I just…" I falter, feeling dorky and then even dorkier for _feeling_ dorky. "Where are you off to?"

Frowning, you lower your eyes. "I have stuff to do."

"Oh. I thought you were mad or something." There. I said it. Got the ball rolling and all that.

"What?" You chuckle, but I'm on to you now.

Sighing, I step a little closer, knowing that we're both blushing like fools. "Can you just…stop? Please?"

"Stop what?"

"When have you ever preferred solitude to a party, Edward?"

You smirk. "Never."

"So…"

"So I don't know. It gets weird sometimes."

"What does?" I want you to spit it out.

"We do."

Hearing you acknowledge "we" takes a bit of the weight off my chest. I decided to barrel ahead, because God knows I have the fortitude now and might not again. Ever.

"So let's not be weird then. Let's just say what we need to say."

"Are you quoting John Mayer?"

"No," I laugh, shoving him. And then I catch myself. Because that was a really girl move, something Rose does to Emmett constantly. "I'm just saying we should say all the stuff that's floating around up here." I point to my head. "I'm tired of pretending."

For a moment I think you're going to deflect some more, but instead you nod. "Me too."

"Okay."

"Let's go for a walk," you say, looking anywhere but at me. This bashful version of you is so foreign, but I prefer it to the brash version.

We fall in to step. It's a little chilly, but not too bad.

"What were you thinking when you woke up that day on the beach?" I blurt out.

"You mean when I looked at you?"

I nod. "It looked like you were crying."

"I think I was."

This surprises me, but it doesn't. It was an intense moment in time.

"…the last thing I remembered was my head hurting like crazy and then I was on the sand and my chest hurt really bad – "

"Erm… yeah. I hit you pretty hard."

"You sure it was all in the name of saving a life?" you tease, side-eyeing me. "I had a couple of bruises."

Staring at the sidewalk in front of us, I smile faintly. "Whatever it takes."

You don't say anything for awhile. We walk in peaceable silence, something I never, ever imagined we'd share. It's like our feud ran its course, exhausted itself, and dies. Like we ran with it for such a long time that it tired us out. I can remember everything; I just can't remember how or why it escalated the way it did. Why you acted like you hated me. I need to know.

I clear my throat. "Why – "

"When I opened my eyes you were the first thing I saw, and all I could think was 'why her?' Out of all the lifeguards on the beach, why her?"

Oddly enough, I know just what you mean.

"As if you weren't…" you trail off.

"What?" I ask.

"You've always had the upper hand. Always."

Now I'm a little confused. "Edward, I did what I did because it was the only thing _to_ do, not so I could lord it over you later."

"Exactly."

"You've lost me."

You stop walking and turn to me. "You're light years ahead of me, Bella. You've always been excellent, not just as a swimmer, but as a person. And I resented you for it."

"But why?" I cry.

You link your hands behind your head and laugh nervously. "Because I… I've liked you since ninth grade."

My heart jolts in my chest. "_Ninth grade_?"

You nod.

"But…but… whenever I asked you said you didn't," I sputter.

"Come on, Bella, why put myself out there time and time again? If you weren't interested after what went down at Tyler's, you never would be."

"You kissed me because you liked me?"

"Why else? I don't hook up with girls I don't like."

Well that's news. "I don't know; I thought you were just horny."

You drop your hands. "Is that why you kissed back?"

Feeling rather sheepish – and a little slutty – I shrug. "I – I didn't, I mean, I thought you were cute. Anyway," I shake my head. "Not of that explains, or excuses, the way you let Mike frigging Newton think we had sex. And all of those rumors afterward. Do you know what it was like? People totally treated me different for a few weeks. It sucked."

"I know," you whisper, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry."

"You keep saying that, but do you even know why?"

"I guess at the time it made me feel better, like if I had to be miserable than I liked that you were too."

I start walking again, slowly. "This doesn't really build your case of how sorry you are."

"Bella, I'm sorry now. But at the time I was just… pissed off."

"Maybe if you'd told me how you really felt I'd have given you a chance. I'm not a mind reader, you know. You can't make out with me in some guy's bathroom and view _that_ as your declaration," I say. "And then afterwards…ugh. I don't know."

"I know. You're right."

"And sometimes it upsets me that the only reason you're being decent to me now is because I saved you. Like it took something of that magnitude for you to change."

"Maybe it did. I owe you for my life, but also for the wakeup call. You have no idea what it's like. You hear about people having second chances and all that bull, but it's completely true. I can't take things for granted anymore, and I can't waste time." You speak fast and sure, words rushing out of your mouth like water down a river. "I can't take back last year."

You grab my hand. My stomach flip-flops; I can't quite look at you because the last time we touched romantically we did a lot more than just hold hands. When I don't pull away, though, you slide your fingers through mine. It feels foreign. It feels good.

"Does it matter why? Is one reason better than the other?" you ask all earnest now.

"I guess not," I say, sneaking glances at our hands. "I just wish I wasn't always the one to speak up, I guess."

"I kissed you. I got you off. And I asked you – twice – if you liked me. What else did you want me to do?"

"Guess I never really looked at it that way. You're a good actor, you know."

"I'm not acting now," you say, squeezing my hand.

"Remember the time you threw M&Ms at Peter?" I snort, needing to lighten the moment. "Idiot."

You laugh. "Yeah, Irina wouldn't talk to me for like a week afterwards."

"Is that what her name is?"

"Yeah."

We walk to the end of the block and turn around, retracing our steps to Emmett's.

"Bella?"

I have a feeling I know what's coming, so I try to stay calm. This whole situation is weird and alternate universe-ish, but I'm tired of pretending not to feel things simply because they're inconvenient. I don't want to hang on to old hurts, and my pride, and preconceived notions and grudges and crappy memories.

The realization hits me hard. I just want you to love me.

I look up at you. "What?"

"Do you like me?"

You look so hopeful, but so like you're trying to be cool, too, that I have to smile. Because when it comes down to it, I'm just as nervous as you are.

"Yes. I do."

* * *

_aha! no more emotional constipation for these too. yeah. _

_i love writing teenagers and i loved my teen years but let me tell you... i'm glad i'm past such malarkey._

_anyway, much love! tank you for continuing to read this. xoxoxo_


	38. Adjust

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - adjust**

* * *

Now that I see it in its full glory, I realize I've seen hints of it before: adoration.

Your face brightens with a smile so wide it practically splits your face. It's amazing how cute you are to me when you're not scowling or sulking. More than cute. You're hot.

So you yank me closer, letting go of my hand so you can put your arm around me like you want to claim this before I change my mind, and my heart skips and flutters so much that I wonder how hard I was working to keep it calm before.

"When?" You ask. I feel your voice reverberate in your chest. "When did it change?"

"I don't know. Recently, I guess." I look up at you, squinting in the frail fall sun. "It snuck up on me."

You grin and squeeze me so close it's hard to walk. I wrap my arm around your waist and half embrace you back. Being able to touch you is a relief I didn't know I wanted until now.

"Might've had something to do with the fact that your personality started matching your looks," I add.

"You think I'm cute."

It's a statement, not a question, and I laugh lowly. "I like how that's the one thing you got out of what I just said."

"Naw, I get it. I'm not a total moron."

"Anymore."

You tug gently at my hair. "Anymore. You gonna keep on busting my balls?"

"Probably."

"Because I can think of a lot better things to do with them – "

"Oh, ew Edward." Laughing, I shove you away, but you won't let go of me and you draw me right back, your face abruptly void of all silliness. You gently push me up against a tree outside Emmett's, resting your hands on the bark behind me.

"You don't even know all the ways I've thought about you, though," you say. It's sexy, and your voice trembles a little, so it's also sweet.

"Been perving out at the pool?" I breathe, unable to control my reaction to your closeness and your words. "Is that why you wear goggles all the time?" You turn red and I crack up. "Jeez, I was joking! But you totally do!"

"Yeah, I totally do," you say, drawing your bottom lip in to your mouth in a way that makes me want to kiss it. "At the pool and everywhere else…but it's the worst at the pool. You know what it's like having to adjust myself in a situation like that?"

I cover my mouth, holding back a laugh.

You shake your head, grinning. The only times I've seen you this happy have been after winning meets. I like that I make you feel this way. For so long I thought you despised me. It's messing with my head, but in a good way.

"Does that bother you?"

"No," I say.

"I kept it subtle."

"Subtle stalking…"

"You drove me nuts." Your eyes twinkle darkly.

"Sorry," I say, but I'm not. You know it, too.

Suddenly your eyes flicker behind me. "Figures," you mutter.

I twist around the tree and follow your gaze. The curtain in Emmett's living room curtain flutters suspiciously. "What, were they spying?"

"Of course."

"We should start screaming at each other," I joke.

"Or making out…"

"Don't push it," I say, fiddling with the zipper on your jacket.

"Don't you want to kiss me?"

"I've already kissed you," I tease.

You back off, winking at me. "Next time it'll be better."

* * *

I can't lie; it's taking me a minute to adjust to this thing with you. It's nice, though, secretly wanting to see you at school instead of dreading it.

It's like the magnets have been switched around, and instead of repelling each other in the halls at school we attract. Outwardly, it's nothing major: a little hand holding and goofy smiles only the newly involved share. I think it takes people a couple of times before they notice, but when they do it's crazy. All at once the rumors are back, only this time they aren't cruel. This time, they're true.

At practice on Tuesday Coach Clapp nearly has a heart attack when you throw me over your shoulder and jump in to the deep end. I beat you up under water, emerging victorious – and just in time to see Coach gaping in concerned bemusement. I see him questioning Emmett, probably thinking our rivalry has deteriorated in to physical violence.

Mike Newton can't frigging stand it. He's Smirky McSmirkyson every time I see him, until mid-week when he makes a comment in the cafeteria.

"Shut your mouth," you warn, not even looking his way.

He frowns and goes back to pushing his food around his plate.

Well, well. It's about time. You have a lot of catching up to do and I'm more than happy to let you.

Later, you corner me at my locker. People rush by on their way out, and I notice some of them noticing us. "Can we go out Friday?"

I shrug, grabbing a text book. "I don't know, can we?"

"Bella." You pull me so we're facing each other. "I want to take you out."

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You stare at my lips long enough to let me know what you're thinking, and then you run your thumb along them in case I wasn't sure.

* * *

_Tiny Tyrant rules today with an iron fist. I think he's already teething: cranky, drooling like crazy and gumming everything in reach._

_so. thanks for reading and talking to me, lovelies!_


	39. Point

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - point**

* * *

It's still dark when I wake up to get a little pre-practice practice in. I grab a granola bar and sip my coffee in silence, appreciative of the dim quiet before officially starting my day.

At school, all is still except for the lights at the gym and the pool. I'm not the only athlete training this early in the day, and a little part of me – okay, all of me – hopes that you've beat me here.

You're standing at the diving block, ready to jump, when I walk in. We make eye contact and you falter, toppling in as you lose your balance. I swallow back and laugh and really hope you don't act all embarrassed because come on. I have definitely seen you in worse situations. Actually, you've probably seen me worse too.

"Hey," you say when you come up for air.

"Hey." I flutter my fingers in a wave. "Let me put my stuff inside and I'll come in."

Minutes later we're swimming together the way we have been for months. I push it to the point where my muscles burn and I can feel myself sweating underwater, not satisfied until then. We're doing our own thing, so it takes a while before you realize that I've stopped to rest against the wall for a bit.

You glide under the water like a sea snake, popping up right beside me.

"When did you get here?" I don't really care, but saying something is less awkward than just staring.

"About ten minutes before you did."

"Oh."

You push your hair back from your face, scattering water droplets.

"I'm surprised you didn't cut it," I remark.

"I decided not to this year."

"I see that."

"You like it short?"

"Doesn't matter what _I _prefer. I thought you buzzed it to keep it from your face while you swam."

"Well, yeah," you chuckle. "Obviously."

Sighing, I purse my lips and watch you. "And they say women are hard to figure out. You're ridiculous."

"You like longer hair."

The harsh fluorescent lighting reflects prettily off the water and I draw my hand through, watching it. "Who told you that?"

You shrug, but you're right, I do prefer your hair longer. "But I'm right though."

I reach up to touch your hair, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. "I like it both ways, but you have nice hair, so... yeah. I guess I do like the way it looks."

"Gives you something to hang on to." You waggle your eyebrows.

"For what, when I'm leading you around the school like a prize pony?" I tease.

"Naw. For when I – " You interrupt yourself to kiss me.

You've caught me off guard, but I catch up.

Yeah, I remember now.

I remember how good kissing you felt, how it feels right now. How much better it is because we're sober and this isn't just a onetime thing and we sure as hell aren't in a bathroom.

We're cold, skin clammy from swimming, but our mouths are warm. When you kissed me you moved closer and now we're pressed together. I'm distantly aware that this is the pool at school and people could walk in any minute, but it feels too good to stop.

You look down at me, running your hands up and down my thighs. "I thought you'd never let me kiss you again."

"So you stole one?" I ask, touching the scar on your forehead.

But you just kiss me, lifting me a little so I can wrap my legs around you.

"Hey," I whisper, moving my lips from yours. "We should chill."

"Okay," you mumble, kissing down my chin to my neck.

I guess you were right about your hair, because I end up grasping it. I can't stop you from kissing my skin. I won't.

Until, of course, the doors swing open and the quiet lapping of pool water is replaced by our loud and rowdy teammates.

"Holy shit!" Mike. Who else?

You let me down, subtly adjusting yourself.

Coach Clapp stops and looks down at us with slight disgust. "I don't know which is worse: the fighting or this. Go do some laps." He starts walking again. "On opposite ends of the pool."

* * *

"That was one of my fantasies," you whisper, blowing my hair away as you kiss my ear. We're at my locker again and I'm just waiting for a hall monitor or member of the faculty to yell at us for PDA.

"What, getting busted by Mike and Coach?"

You nip me, making me squeal and shove you. "Making out with you in the pool."

"I was just messing with you, gosh." I rub my ear, frowning.

You hold my arms down and kiss my ear again. "Sorry."

"'S'okay," I murmur, endeared by your immature yet irresistibly sweet behavior. "So where are you taking me tomorrow night?"

"It's a surprise."

"It's not the movies, right?"

You smirk, pulling away so you can lean against the locker next door. "No, but I do think we should go at some point to make new memories."

"Why do I get the impression that all you wanna do is get me naked?"

"What's wrong with that?"

I snort. "I'll let that pass. Only because you're cute."

"You're cute," you say.

"You're both sickening," Rose says, appearing out of nowhere. Her triumphant smile belies her words, though. "What're you two up to later?"

"I don't know," I say, looking at you.

You glance back at me and then look down, smiling.

Emmett shakes his head, not even trying to hide his amusement. He grabs Rose and forcibly pulls her away. "We'll let you two get back to it."

You're still looking at the floor. "Can I come over tonight? Is your Dad working late?"

"How'd you know about that?"

"Emmett told me."

"Oh." I nod. I forget that Emmett was sort of our liaison for a long time. Well, Edward's anyway. "Yeah, he is actually. You can come over after school. After practice."

"I'll go home and shower first."

"Whatever." I smile, kissing your cheek… because I can.

And because the look you get when I do makes me so, so warm inside.

* * *

_yay! i love love, don't you? a few more in this plotline, methinks, before we wrap._

_tiny t thanks you guys for your thoughts, well wishes and teething pain remedies. :) xoxoxo_


	40. Deluge

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - deluge**

* * *

I'm reheating leftovers when I hear your knock at the door.

When was the last time you came to my house? Tenth grade? Ninth? For my birthday – a barbeque, I think. You and I were sort of friends back then.

I watch you for a moment through the window. Your hands are in your pockets and you look so nervous. I can't believe _I_ do this to you. No wonder you hated me: liking me must have been torturous.

Well, this must be payback then, because the deluge of emotions I've been feeling for the past few days has been nothing short of overwhelming. I open the door.

"Hi."

"Hi."

I bring you inside, smiling all goofy.

We stand there for a minute, and then you come closer. You're still hesitant sometimes, so I close the gap and tiptoe to kiss you. I'm going for the cheek again, because it's safer, but by now you know my style so you catch my lips instead.

The microwave beeps from kitchen.

"Want some lasagna?"

"I'm okay, I ate."

"Okay."

You follow me in to the kitchen and lean against the counter, staring at me as I grate parmesan over my plate. "You sure you're not hungry? You're eyeing this like it's the apocalypse and this the last meal in sight."

"It's not the food I'm hungry for, smartass."

"Mm, flirting and insulting rolled in to one," I say, nodding. "I like it. It fits us."

"Doesn't it though?"

We banter and joke this way while I eat, and then I start the dishwasher and turn the lights off downstairs. You get brownie points for helping me clean up the kitchen, but I'll never tell you that.

"So," you say, sweeping my bedroom door shut. "You planning on swimming in college?"

"Of course. Most of the scholarships I'm hoping for depend on it." I kick a pair of sneakers in to my closet. "I know you'll be."

"For sure. Can't imagine a world without water."

"And yet, you almost gave up." I pick at a hole in my jeans. "For a while, anyways."

You sit beside me on the bed, chewing on your inner cheek. "I don't know how long that would've lasted. I mean, I was freaked out but… not swimming felt weird. It was frustrating."

"Yeah… like you're not doing what you're supposed to be doing."

"Well, that but physically, too. My muscles wanted it."

I nodded, knowing. "I was still a little surprised that day I got there and you'd already started."

"Me too. It was kind of like… I realized the worst thing that could've happened, happened. I don't know. I didn't want…"

"What?"

You look up at me almost shyly. "I didn't want you to think I was that pathetic."

I frown. "I never thought you were pathetic."

"Whatever. I just didn't need you looking at me like I was a loser who'd given up the one thing he was good at."

"Now you're being melodramatic," I say, pulling you down so we're lying side by side. "You're good at plenty of things, including driving me up the wall, and I knew it was a matter of time before you got back in the water. I just pushed you to do it faster because you were wasting time."

"That's what I love about you."

My heart stutters. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. That and your butt." You give it a squeeze for good measure.

I flick your ear and you catch my hand, using it to drag me so that I'm on top of you.

"So you like to be dominated," I say, holding both your hands over your head.

"Not in the pool. Just in bed."

"Good to know."

You try to pull me down to kiss me but I resist until you tickle my sides and wrestle me down. At which point you flip us over so you're on top, negating what you just said about dominance.

"Liar," I breathe.

"Tease."

You lower down and kiss me.

"So what else do you love about me?" I ask.

I never thought I'd meet someone who blushed as much as me. I'm amazed I was able to overlook your gorgeous face for so long – meaning before the Year We Hated Each Other. Why didn't I _see_ you? Where was my head at?

"You really are a tease," you say, rolling to my side.

I sit up a little, balancing on my elbow. "What? Why?"

"Do you realize…?" You shake your head. "Bella, I don't love things about you…I love you. I've thought about this forever."

"Why didn't you tell me? Before the time we kissed?" I ask, whispering because I think I might cry.

"Would you tell someone you loved them if you were pretty sure they didn't feel the same?"

Slowly, I shake my head. "No, but… maybe I would've taken a chance. Maybe. I don't know."

"You're braver than me."

"Stop saying that," I say. "When you get this self deprecating I don't know if I want to hug you or slap you."

You smirk, resting your hand on my hip.

We lie there awhile, looking in to each other's eyes, which is actually harder than it sounds. All that talk about the eyes being the windows to our souls might just be poetic foolishness, but it sure feels true. The vulnerability, secrets and realness we try to keep concealed – it's all right there.

"You've got really nice eyes," I finally say, touching your eyelashes just to watch them flutter.

"So do you."

I smile, and when we start kissing this time, we don't stop for hours.

In fact, it's not until midnight when I look over at my bedside clock. "My Dad's probably gonna be home soon."

"Mm."

I scratch my nails gently over your back. "Don't your parents wonder where you are?"

"They know I'm here."

"At _midnight_?"

They know I'm keeping you company 'til your dad gets home."

"Come on," I say, eyeing your smooth, tan chest. "No parent is that naïve."

"They're not naïve," you agree, pulling my tank top aside so you can kiss my nipple. You're stretching out the material, but I gave up telling you to stop about an hour ago. "They know how I feel. They've always known."

"Aw." I'm so happy right now it's ridiculous. I pull your face up so I can kiss it.

* * *

_yes, i know i know, she didn't say it back. give a sistah a chance to catch up!_

_meanwhile, shirtless edward-in-the-bed. yeah. swimmerboys like him have great v-lines. i'd know. i married one. in fact, where is he..._

_ps sometimes i tweet pics of tiny tyrant. yes, really. also of cookies i bake, and nice skies, and other things that tickle my fancy. my twittername is roglows. i follow back if you actually talk to me. talk to me!_

_xoxo_


	41. Patience

_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - patience**

* * *

"Um, Bells, I think Edward's outside." My father peeks again through the window by the front door before turning to look at me. "What happened now?"

I shake my head, trying to tamp down the giddy grin before I really freak him out. "Nothing. I mean nothing bad. We – "

There's a knock at the door. Edward's knock, obviously.

Dad is still looking at me, puzzled.

"We're dating now, all right?" I huff, pushing past him to open the door.

"Oh really?" I hear from behind me.

"Hi," you say, all smiles. I can tell you like what I'm wearing by the way your eyes glide over me. And over me.

"Well this is interesting," my father says.

Sighing, I pull you inside and shut the door. "Don't be obnoxious, Dad. It's – things are different now. Okay? We're good."

He snorts and nods at you. "If you say so. Be good to her, Edward. I'd say because you'll have to answer to me but I think Bella can take care of herself."

Surprisingly, instead of cowing down or getting defensive, you smirk. "Oh, I know she can."

Maybe my mind's in the gutter – in fact, I know it is – but I totally hear that in a different way. Praying my father doesn't hear the possibly sexual undertones in your words, I give him a tight hug. "We'll be home before one."

"Midnight."

"Fine." I give him my most daughterly smile. "Can't blame me for trying."

"Mhm. Drive safely, please. And for the love of God don't drink. I'm serious. If I find out you were drinking I'll ground you." He points to me, and then looks at you. "And I'll call your parents. And take your license."

"No problem, Chief Swan."

"Charlie."

"All right, _Charlie_," I tease. "Love you. Bye."

We duck out in to the night, laughing quietly. "He's so full of it," I whisper.

"I'm not about to find out whether he is or not," you say, shaking your head. "He probably hates my guts."

"Nah. He's a little confused about this, though." I motion between the two of us.

You sober up, nodding once. "I guess I don't blame him."

"You have making up to do," I say, getting in to your car. But when you get in, I touch your arm to get your attention. "But so do I."

"So do you what?"

"Have making up to do."

"Yeah?" Your eyes glitter pervily.

"Not that kind," I sigh. "Well, that too, but I meant… I feel like an idiot for never noticing that you liked me. Emmett knew…your parents knew… I mean, I guess I knew at some point too, but not before that. Not in ninth grade."

"I kept it pretty hidden. Man's gotta protect his balls."

I scrunch my nose. "Charming."

You shrug. "Anyway, whatever. The point is I finally have you, so, whatever. We don't have to keep on rehashing the past."

"The past up until Iast week," I say, biting my lip.

You side-eye me, and for a second you look so sexy it makes me clench inside. But it just won't do to be horny and worked up this early in the evening so I chill out. You've been patient for a long time; I can be patient for a night.

* * *

"Golden Corral?" I ask as we turn off the main road.

"No, I have to get gas," you laugh. "Unless you want to go to Golden Corral. All you can eat."

"Actually… I like their dessert table. My dad and I go there sometimes."

"So do my dad and I, but don't tell my mom. She's a food snob."

"I don't blame her."

"You just said you liked the dessert table."

"I do. But it's not exactly gourmet, if you know what I'm saying."

"Guess it's a good thing we're not eating there." We pull up to the gas pump. "Sit tight."

I watch you walk inside the attached convenience store. An SUV pulls up and kids I know from school pull out. A couple of them see me and wave; I wave back. They bump into you on your way back to the pump, and you chat with them for a second.

It's Friday night. And just like that, we're an actual couple.

* * *

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

"You're not just saying that, right?"

"Edward, stop it," I say, making a face. "You've known me for years, even if we were mortal enemies for one of them. I wouldn't lie about a stupid restaurant." I run my fingers briefly through your hair. It feels like you have gel in it. You're so cute. "Especially a stupid restaurant this nice."

You grin, and grab my hand. "This is where my parents come sometimes for anniversary dinners or whatever."

"That's cool… they're so in love with each other."

Wrinkling your nose, you laugh. "Well, yeah."

I shrug. "My parents split years ago. But, you know."

You nod like you understand, even though you probably don't. Divorce. I'd imagine, isn't something a person would get till they have to experience it themselves, even second hand like me. It's good that you don't get it. It's good that you're one of the rare kids whose parents are actually happy.

"What?"

I blink; you're watching me closely. "Thinking about your parents."

"Boring. Think about me."

"Brat," I laugh.

It's so easy to like you. Maybe love you, I think.

The hostess brings us to our table and we slide in to a nice little half booth, designed to feel intimate I'm sure. It works. Despite the room full of people, it feels like it's just us.

Later, after dinner and dessert and the subsequent doggie bags, you drive me to your house.

"Are your parents home?"

"Yeah, but they're upstairs. They usually chill up there after dinner."

"Cool."

We walk through the darkened house, illuminated only by a few well placed lamps. You lead me straight through to the back yard, over to the hammock.

It's a nice night, not as chilly as it's been lately but brisk enough. The stars burn brilliant, and easy to see as we recline, tangled on the hammock.

"Oof…sorry," I whisper, unable to get comfortable.

You pull me up so we're lying side by side. Yeah, this is better.

"Oh, I get it," I say.

"I'll bet you do."

"This is a guaranteed cuddling spot."

"Cuddling? Bella, come on. I brought you here to get down your pants."

"I'm wearing a skirt."

"Even better."

"You're ridiculous," I say, letting you push your face in to my neck.

"You're beautiful," you respond, kissing a little path up my neck.

"So are you."

You skip my chin and kiss my mouth, easing partly on to me, your knee between mine. I've never been so exciting kissing a boy before – I mean, it's always been exciting but not like this. This is almost unbearable, like I'm so nervous and excited and in to it that it's borderline unpleasant. How much can a girl take before she, I don't know, hurls or passes out?

But then your kisses grow slow and I melt in to sexiness, and I know I'd do anything you wanted to, even out here in your backyard. So when you predictably slide a hand under my skirt, I let you.

"Goosebumps," you remark, running your fingers up and down my inner thighs.

"Mhm."

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

"Do you want to go inside?"

"No."

"Do you want – "

"Shut up," I whisper, tickling my hands through your hair.

You try to climb on top of me and it doesn't work. The hammock shifts sharply and we tumble out on to the cold, stiff grass.

"Ow," I laugh, because, really, that kind of hurt.

But you're a man on a mission, and you kiss me again and again in the grass, putting your hands where they were before and then some, easing my panties to the side so you can put your fingers where I'm wet.

"What if your parents – "

"Shut up," you tease, kissing me so I will.

"'kay," I breathe.

I like how you touch me. It's like you're kissing me there, which makes me think of you _actually _kissing me there, which makes me trembly and like I want to come.

"I think about this all the time," you say, against my mouth. You slip your fingers inside and...

...I've never come outside before. It's better.

Much.

* * *

_have you ever... in the grass? or the sand? or outside at all?_


	42. Swing

All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

not beta'd

storyline - Malicious

prompt - swing

* * *

I hang up the phone.

My father raises his eyebrows, keys in hand. "So?"

"So…I'm just going to go for a little while, at least until the weather gets bad."

"It's already looking bad, Bells."

Sighing, I nod. "I know. But you know how they love to surf when storms are coming. At least let me guard for a couple of hours."

He doesn't like it, I can tell, but he squeezes my shoulder anyway. "Call if you need anything. And for God's sake, don't be a hero. If some idiot can't follow the rules or wants to stay in the water when it's high time to get out, just leave 'em."

"Okay, Dad." I give him a kiss and follow outside, where we split up: he to his cruiser and me to my truck.

There's an odd storm coming, rare to see outside of summer. This sunshine is deceiving; already the wind has started picking up and in a couple of hours, the sky will probably be dark. Jake's already at the beach, but we'll both be leaving early today.

To my relief, the parking lot is maybe a third full of what it would normally be on a Saturday. Like I'd predicted, the majority of people here are surfers and skim boarders who live for rougher waters.

My phone rings, and I fish it from my backpack as I hit the sand.

"Hello?" It's hard to hear with the wind.

"Hey, Bella?"

I can barely hear you. "Hey! I'm at the beach – half day today. Or less, depending on how bad it gets."

"Mind if I swing by?"

"No, come."

"Okay. Be there in fifteen."

"Oh. Okay – "

You've already hung up. I find my platform and climb up, shading my face as I look up and down the strip. Jake's at the far right, jumping down to talk to someone coming in from the water.

The sky is a silvery blue, ringed at the edges with a duller gray.

I want to be extra vigilant today, because the water is so much feistier than usual. It's fun watching people surf though, especially the ones who are really good at it. After a couple of minutes you show up, barefoot and in board shorts, with a hoodie half zipped.

"Hi." You smile; your teeth so white against your tanned face.

"Hi yourself. Watch's up? I thought you had _sooo _much homework?"

"Eh, I needed a break."

"Understandable."

"So…they really asked you to come out here, huh? Crazy."

"I know, but…" I bite my lip, glancing back out at the water. Some guy rides a tiny barrel all the way in until it practically spits him on to shore. "There're always gonna be daredevils."

"I should know, right?" you joke, a wry smile touching your mouth.

I shrug, jumping down on to the sand. "Hopefully we won't have a repeat of that."

We hang around chatting for a bit, and all the while I watch the sea, making sure no one needs my help. Eventually Jake wanders down the beach, his whistle in his hand. The sky is darker now, the shore deserted.

"I think we can pack it up, little Swan."

"Okay, Jacob."

He nods at you just once, posturing like he's the alpha dog around these parts. You nod back, and I'm not sure if you're posturing back or simply mocking him. Either way, I roll my eyes and pack my stuff, pulling a long cardigan on over my suit.

"Ready?" you ask.

"Yep. Bye, Jake."

"Bye, babe," he says, probably to piss you off.

Ignoring him, you sling your arm around my shoulder and we leave the beach, our feet sinking into the cooling, dry sand. You smell good, clean and nostalgic fresh like chlorine and your mother's laundry detergent. She only buys hippy dippy environmentally friendly stuff and while you scoff, I secretly love the sagey-lavender scent.

"Your dad home?" you ask, the perfect picture of innocence…

…but I'm on to you. "Nope."

"Can I come over?"

"Sure. I'm thinking of making manicotti."

* * *

"What're those things – "

"Scones."

"Yeah…" You twist a lock of my hair between your fingers. "My grandma used to make those. Rock scones."

"Huh. Hers are probably better."

"Yours are good," you assure me.

"I guess so. You had like, twenty."

"Twelve."

"Pig," I laugh, patting your sickeningly flat belly. I'm no slouch either – years of swimming has kept me toned – but you're pretty physically perfect. I'll never tell you that, either, though. You already know.

You lost the hoodie soon after coming in my front door, and now that we're in my bed you've helped me lose my cardigan, too. Your fingers play at the straps of my swim suit.

"Let's take this off," you suggest, cocking your head, deceptively sweet.

"It's a one piece. If we take the top of we'll have to take the whole thing off."

"And?"

We stare at each other for a beat. I purse my lips. "And… okay."

I never did get in to the water, but the wind blew hard enough to make my skin salty anyway. You've been licking it off my neck and shoulders. I probably smell like scones now.

You link your hands behind your head while you watch me undress. There isn't much to remove: a sweater, a swimsuit, the clip holding up my wind-strewn bun.

For some reason I'm not nervous or self conscious. Maybe it's because we've seen each other's bodies in next to nothing for years. Or it could be because we've fooled around hardcore before, even though that was a while back. Perhaps it's that your love for me is well established, and if anyone has the upper hand I suppose it's me, even though I refuse to play it that way.

In bed you trace fingers, then lips, along my breasts, paler, softer skin that never sees the sun.

"Is it wrong to want you?" you ask, hushed and heavy and close to my heart.

"No… what do you mean?"

"I don't want to stop this time," you admit, finally looking me in the eye.

"Then don't."

You retrieve a condom from your wallet and put it on my nightstand. Off come your shorts, landing in a heap besides my discarded clothing.

Your skin is so soft for a boy. The little hairs on your body are gold from the sun. I touch the muscles and bones that fascinate and arouse me, liking the way your weight pins me down.

"Have you thought about this, too?" I whisper, only half teasing.

"About a million times." Your tongue slides in to my mouth and my hands in to your hair.

Our kissing flows from barely sweet to desperately sloppy before you relent and grab the condom.

"It glows in the dark," you announce, your dick bobbing as you put the neon green rubber on.

"Did you wanna turn off the lights?"

"Hell no."

Outside the wind whips through the trees and the rain slaps steadily against the windows and roof. In here we are warm and melting together, kissing and kissing. You hold yourself up and I guide you inside and then we're moving, slow, uncoordinated in the best way.

You feel so much better than I would have ever imagined, and for a split second I envision a time when we can do this whenever we want, without the threat of parents. I hold you close and you catch on quick, grinding so you rub me the right way.

"So much better," you groan, shaking your head slowly, eyes shut against the goodness.

"Than what?"

"Than what I imagined."

I kiss your chin, your neck, your ear. "Me too."

* * *

_bom chicka wow wow._

_man, everyone's outdoor lovin' stories were awesome. seriously, lol. we should publish a coffee table book full of these little tales of rustic lust._

_also - ahem - i grew up on an island in the caribbean. all of you who claimed that beach love is no fun (mainly b/c of sand getting everywhere) simply didn't do it right. just sayin. ;)_

_xoxoxo_


	43. Jingle tingle

_ All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._

_not beta'd_

**storyline - Malicious**

**prompt - jingle, tingle**

* * *

It's Sunday, and all I want to do is see you, especially after last night. But I haven't been able to get a hold of you all day. It's a little gloomy outside, but I don't mind. I'm tired. You kept me up late on the phone. It's been a long time since I did that, and I can't wait to do it again.

_All_ of it.

But you're nowhere to be found and I'm getting a little mopey so I finish cleaning the kitchen and head upstairs. I don't even have homework to fall back on; that's been done since Friday.

I'm about to call Alice when my phone rings in my hand, startling me with some stupid jungle you must have put in when I wasn't looking. A picture of you – supplied by you too, apparently – pops up.

Rolling my eyes, I smile and pick up. "Hey."

"Hi…you home?"

"I've been home. Where've you been? I've been calling you…"

"Yeah, sorry about that. Can I come over?"

"Of course."

"Is your – "

"Yes, he's home."

"I'll just bring you to my house, then."

"A, I can drive and B, is that all you want?" I ask, fingering the curtains in my window.

"A, I'd rather you ride with me and B, if you have to ask that you really don't know me at all."

We're playing, but your words warm me anyhow. "Okay. Hurry up then."

I'm still looking out the window when you arrive ten minutes later. My father greets you at the door; your voices float up the stairs as I walk down.

"Hi," you say, two glass jars tucked under your arm.

"Hi," I respond, squinting at the jars. "What is that?"

"Can we go up to your room for a second?"

"Sure." I turn around and jog the way I just came, glancing back to affirm that you are, in fact, staring at my butt. I wonder how much you did that over the years and I was never the wiser.

We walk in to my room and shut the door. "So what's up?"

You hand me the jars, one empty and the other full of sea glass.

"Oooh, I love sea glass," I say. I really do. I've collected it on and off throughout the years.

"Good. I thought you would. There's a point to this though."

I shrug, holding the jar up so that the light from one of my lamps shines through. "Beauty doesn't need a point besides being beautiful."

"That's great," you say, smirking. "But there's a point anyway."

"Okay. What is it?"

"It might be corny."

"Edward." I set the jars down on to my desk and turn to you. "Just – what?"

You come closer, hooking your fingers through my belt loops. "I wanted to do something nice for you. Special, you know?"

I nod.

"My mom suggested something significant…"

"Your mom?"

"I was telling her about how we ended up…like this." Your cheeks pinken. "I, uh…she… she was a little pissed about last year."

"Ah, I see."

"Yeah. She like, loves you. She's always known about my crush – "your blush darkens – "so she couldn't understand why I'd treat you like shit. So anyway I wanted to do something for you, like get you flowers or something?"

"But you don't have to," I say quietly.

"No, just hold on. I do have to. Last year was a frickin mess, mostly because of bad decisions I made. Things could have been different, but instead I wasted every day resenting you for all the things I actually love about you."

You reach for the jar and hold it up. "Three hundred and fifty seven pieces. One for every day I treated you wrong."

"You _counted_?"

"Yeah."

My eyes start to tingle and burn. I wipe my face roughly, trying to concentrate without turning in to a crying mess. "What's the other jar for?"

"Today. Yesterday. Every day since you told me you liked me back. Every day we get to make up for last year." You take out a small handful of pieces, I assume for every day we've dated, and drop them carefully in to the empty jar.

"Did you put one in for today?" I ask.

You nod. "So…"

"So there's nothing corny about that. In fact, I love it."

"I was gonna do M&Ms, but I didn't want to remind you of the time I dumped them all over your date."

Snorting, I pick up the jar again, digging my fingers through the cool, smooth glass. "This is actually really appropriate. Sea glass isn't special until it's been softened by the water and sand. Kinda like you. And, us."

A thought occurs to me. "Is this what you were doing today? Collecting these?"

"Yeah. The beach was covered in it after last night's storm."

There's this thought tugging at my heart and if I don't say it now it'll bug me all day. "Hey."

You look at me, your face ruddy from wind, salt and sun.

I wrap my arms around you and tiptoe so I can kiss the apple of your cheek. "I love you too."

* * *

At school, we're not as secretly sexual as Rose and Emmett, who usually spend lunch screwing in his jeep with the tinted windows, and we're not as nauseatingly romantic as Alice and Jasper, with whom every day is Valentine's. No, we do things our own way. I guess we always have. For all of the BS we once put each other through, we actually got to know each other really well throughout the years.

No one seems surprised when we make it past a month, and then two, and no one's surprised when we win identical swimming scholarships to the same school.

But it's high school, and there will always be rumors. In fact, just last week I heard two junior girls discussing me and you. They said you were a sexy bastard. They said I was a lucky bitch. They said they'd heard you'd given me a hickey in the music room.

So not true.

You gave me two.

* * *

**_the end._**

_so, i'm not doing another witfit story just yet, because i'm starting a new 'for real' story soon. might be in 3 weeks, might be next week. it's mostly written. so, yeah. see you soon! and in the meanwhile, see you on twitter or edwardville (i'm roglows_here on livejournal) or a different forest or wherever._

_i've loved chatting with you guys, by the way! thanks for reading and reviewing and suggesting and theorizing and answering. :)_

_xoxo_


End file.
